When a Bright Idea Dims
by Sinead Rivka
Summary: It's been nine months since Tony and Rebeckah were rescued from Afghanistan, and not everything is sunshine and rainbows in the Sunshine State for the duo, especially now that Tony's hiding his palladium poisoning from everyone. Chapter 11 up!
1. Prologue

When a Bright Idea Dims  
By Sinead

_**Author's Note:**__ I know that this has taken about a year and a half in the coming, but I've had a lot of things on my plate. I graduated from the Bible school I had been attending, I'm back in my home state of Massachusetts and will be going back to school in the Spring up here, and auditioned for the local Renaissance Faire . . . and got in! More details on that later. Thank you, everyone, for your patience on this! Also, I know that I've mangled the timeline up a little on this. Sorry for any confusion that this might have caused!_

Prologue

Rebeckah Fahey sighed and looked up at the screen, standing semi-patiently beside Pepper while Tony held the press conference. People had been questioning him and his stance on the Iron Man story that it was his bodyguard for months, and this was supposed to be what would put down every rumor. Both were nervous because of his tenancy to run his mouth in public without thinking. It had been almost nine months since their return from Afghanistan, and a month since Tony had proposed. They had already made the new stage of their relationship clear to the public, and Pepper was helping negotiate magazine deals for who would get the first actual engagement article.

She had flat-out told Vanity Fair to take a hike the moment that they made their bid.

_"Been a while since I was up here in front of you. I figure I'll stick to the cards this time. There's been speculation that I was involved in the events that occurred on the freeway and the rooftop . . ."_

"Pep, do you think that he's going to actually stick to the cards that Coulson gave him?" Becka asked, looking at the redhead beside her briefly.

Somehow withholding a snort, Virginia Potts shook her head. "You know how he is. He hates reading off of a script."

_"I'm sorry, Mr. Stark, but do you honestly expect us to believe that was a bodyguard in a suit that conveniently appeared, despite the fact that you historically despise bodyguards?"_

_"Yes?"_

_"And this mysterious bodyguard was somehow equipped with an undisclosed Stark-powered high-tech battle suit?"_

Pepper leaned in closer to the screen, and her eyes widened. "I know that voice."

"What? Who is it?"

"Vanity Fair magazine columnist. Christine Everhart."

Processing that for a moment, Becka frowned. "She sounds like she knows Tony."

The executive assistant winced slightly, glaring at the screen. "They shared a night together before Tony was abducted in Afghanistan." She hadn't wanted to share that information, and had been making sure that Becka didn't have to know any of the women that had been in Tony's bed. She had done a good job so far at keeping the women faceless and voiceless while staying behind the scenes on that endeavor.

"Oh." Her voice was soft, almost as if the younger woman didn't have any breath in her body.

_ "I know it's confusing. It is one thing to question the official story, and another thing entirely to make wild accusations or insinuate that I'm a superhero."_

_ "I never said you were a superhero."_

_ "Didn't? Well, good, because that would be outlandish and, uh . . . fantastic. I mean, let's face it. I'm just not the hero type. Clearly. With this laundry list of character defects, all the mistakes I've made, largely public."_

"No kidding," Becka muttered, shelving her emotions and listening carefully to the dialogue. Whatever Tony said here would ultimately affect their lives.

On the screen, Rhodey leaned and whispered something to the stalling man.

"Yeah, okay, yeah." The billionaire paused, looking out at the crowd of reporters. His gaze shifted so that he wasn't looking at anything in the room anymore, and was instead looking out into the distance, eyes and mind far away before he shot unexpectedly back into the present.

"The truth is . . . I am Iron Man."

Becka, Pepper and Happy, who had just walked into the room, groaned angrily in unison as cameras were blocked by the heads of reporters who had all surged to their feet and were yelling questions of the man who had been slipping through their fingers all these months.

"I'm gonna kill him," Becka sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. They had all dressed nice for today because there were going to be pictures after the press conference. The younger woman was dressed in a dark grey dress suit with electric blue pinstripes. Her shirt matched the stripes and her heels were conservative and matched the grey. She wore silver jewelry, save for the ring on her left ring finger.

That particular piece of jewelry was platinum and red-gold entwined artistically and delicately, holding a series of diamonds that were not too large but were just large enough to notice. The main precious gemstone was a ruby that somehow held a golden star within its depth.

Hearing the commotion that was starting to gather outside the door, Becka pinpointed Tony's voice and waited until he entered the room alone. Happy stood with his back to the window between the office and the hooligans outside while Tony moved over out of sight of any camera from that angle. He looked down at Rebeckah's face. "I'm sorry."

"Uh-huh."

"I'm really, really sorry."

"Right."

Tony didn't know what to say to that, and his mouth twitched as he just stared down into twin pools of angered blue. He had no words.

Fortunately, she did. "I mean, honestly! Saying something like that in front of the whole world? Were you _thinking_ of what that could mean for us?"

"Yes."

"Oh, really."

He gathered her unyielding form into his arms, feeling her stiffen further against him. "Yes. I didn't want you harassed about having an affair with Iron Man anymore. I wanted to be able to publicly protect you and not have to hide behind the façade of rich playboy. Hiding like that would have only hurt you." Slowly, he felt the anger dissolving from her body, and Tony rubbed her back soothingly. "I should have talked with you, Pep and Happy before doing this, but Coulson was in the room and I didn't want to have a throw-down with a guy that I can't get a handle on." Kissing her forehead, Tony tipped her chin up and rested the tip of his nose against hers. "Beckers, you're the most important thing in the world to me, and I don't want to lose you or see you hurting."

She was silent for a moment, blue eyes meeting brown ones evenly. Finally, she sighed and nodded. "Okay."

"Am I forgiven?"

"Yes. But you owe me."

"I know. Can I get you that car?"

"No."

"Please?"

"Tony, it's an Aston-Martin. You know that you'd be driving it more than I would because you love fancy cars and I'd be afraid of denting something that beautiful."

"Fine. I'll get you that Mustang you've been drooling over."

"No."

"Please?"

"Tony, it's time for the pictures," Pepper interrupted, smiling as Tony dodged a fist from his fiancé.

The four straightened themselves up before walking out, Tony holding Becka's left hand in his right, hiding the ring for now. The quartet smiled as Rhodey came up to stand on Tony's other side, with Pepper beside Rebeckah and Happy on the outside beside Rhodey.

Flashes went off as everyone smiled, even though none of them wanted to.


	2. Chapter 1

When A Bright Idea Dims  
By Sinead

_**Author's Note:**__ If you haven't read the opening pages of the Iron Man 2 novelization, you should. It's hilarious. Another thing to be aware of in this story: There WILL be more action._

Chapter One

Pepper was unsympathetic of the state that Tony found himself in. It had been a month since the Press Conference and Tony Stark "becoming one" with Iron Man, and the International Stark Expo opening show was under way. Becka and Happy were on the ground waiting for Tony and making sure that things were running smoothly behind the scenes, and Pepper was standing with arms folded behind Tony.

He holding onto the toilet carefully as he finished retching. "Oh, God, I'm gonna die."

"Get up. We're nearing the drop zone."

Groaning, Tony just wanted to wait for the unnatural nausea to end. He wasn't afforded that luxury as Pepper grabbed his arm and pulled him up. He noted her shoes in that moment, envied Happy for a half-second, then decided to hint to Becka about getting some of those shoes for herself. They could make legs look amazing, and for already-amazing legs, those shoes would make them look perfect. And both Pepper and Becka had great legs, long and perfectly curved in all the right ways.

"Pep, this isn't fair. This is a crisis!"

She wasn't taking any of his act. "Red Bull and Vodka are hardly cause for a crisis. This is a hangover. Welcome back to being human. Does Becka know that you've had this much to drink already?"

This was hell, was what it was. "It was a social drink!"

"Right. I forgot." The sarcasm in her voice was thick. "You were enjoying your own company."

Sighing and putting the helmet on, Tony looked at the now-open hatch with uncharacteristic trepidation. Fine.

"Don't forget to land on your feet," Jarvis snarked inside Tony's helmet.

Closing the faceplate, the man swore at his AI and ran out of the plane.

* * *

Seeing Tony in a suit of any kind was amazing. He was a man who looked fantastic in jeans and a battered t-shirt, kicking back and lazing about with a drink by the poolside in nothing but swim trunks, but when you put him in a suit or a tux . . .

Well, he was absolutely amazing.

Rebeckah had moved to just out of sight of the stage and audience while Tony catered to the crowd, controlling them effortlessly. She stood out of sight of Tony, too, when he walked to one of the wings and grabbed something to drink. Her eyes narrowed as he pulled a silver device out of his pocket. It didn't look like any of his normal tech gadgets. It was one of the medical models she had seen him working on. By the time he had finished glaring at the small digital screen and had put it back into his pocket, Tony walked back out on the stage to finish the welcome to the crowds.

When he had returned to the wings, Rebeckah was waiting for him, looking stunning in her professional attire. It was a black pencil skirt that came to just above her knees, paired with a white blouse, each having contrasting stitching of white and black, respectively. The designs were custom, and had come from her own hand. He had encouraged her to talk with some of the big-name designers after seeing some of the artwork and ideas that she sketched out on scrap pieces of paper and in a sketchbook.

But this stitching were stylized versions of the arrowed Stark logo, combined with the arc reactor as it appeared. He hadn't seen this outfit on her yet. Oh. She'd already gotten the same heels as Pepper. Score. She smiled up at his face, and he leaned in to land a chaste kiss to her nose. "Hi."

"Hi. Nice landing."

"Mm. Thank you. Want to go for a drink, Christian girl?"

"Only if there's dinner involved. I'm hungry, and have been handling things here with Happy." She paused, frowning. "Have you already had something to drink?" When he had kissed her nose, he smelled odd.

"Red Bull. And you're good at organizing people and getting them to do your bidding."

"Not mine. I'm following the same script you are." But her hand slid into his comfortingly. "What do you say to Chili's?"

"You're hooked on those Margaritas."

"Yeah, well what can I say? They're amazing."

He began to lead her towards where Happy was standing, waiting for him. "I'd've thought that a nice Irish girl like you would have gone more for whiskey or black beer."

"Hah! No, fruity drinks right now are good enough for me."

"I've noticed. Happy!" Tony grinned at his man and they shook hands in greeting. "How'd things run?"  
"Smoothly, sir. Did you want to stay for a while?"

"Nope. I want to get going." Tony didn't say why, but if Happy was informed of how he had been puking his guts out on the plane, the man did an amazing job at keeping his mouth shut about it.

"Right this way, then."

What followed was a whirlwind of people greeting Tony and Becky, wanting autographs from Tony, pictures of both, handshakes, smiles, and for one group of college girls, well . . . they posed. Tony looked to Happy for an assist and the man got between the girls and the couple while Tony made a break for the door with Becky in tow.

Once outside in the relative quiet, the duo sighed simultaneously. Tony spoke first. "I didn't look."

"Don't lie to me."

"I . . . okay. I looked. Becka, I'm sorry."

"They were implants."

"Yeah. Not the best I've seen."

"Was a Miss Everhart natural?"

During the following seconds of silence and an almost-pained look on his face, Tony cursed wildly and inventively within his head. "Uhm. No. Who told you about her?"

"Pepper. Everhart spoke up at the press conference last month and I was curious about how she addressed you as someone that she'd been in contact with before."

"You're mad about something else."

"Oh. Oh, yes, sir I am." Her tone was factual, clipped, and _very_ angry.

More internal cursing, but Tony was outwardly calm as Happy went to get the car. "Okay. What did I do?" Turning to face her, the inventor was trying to be reasonable with his fiancé.

"Who ordered the dancers in the Mark-Four Vicki's Secret version?"

Son of a whore. Stark rubbed at his face before replying, "I don't know."

"Yes you do, and don't lie to me this time. Who gave the dancers a go-ahead?"

"Why are you so mad about this?"

Her lips thinned, cheeks flamed, and eyes blazed. "Sorry, but I don't attract _that particular_ gleam in your eye when you had been turning to acknowledge their presence on the stage. Nor, sir, do I get quite that lingering glance."

"Beck—"

She held a hand up. "I'm not done."

Tony sighed, shaking his head. "Please, Beck, not tonight, okay? Or at least not in public, okay? I was sick on the plane, I was almost sick in my helmet and—"

"And you're being served, Mr. Stark."

Both turned to look at the woman standing before them. She smiled and held out a paper. Tony didn't want to take it, but he knew that Becka wouldn't oblige him and take it for him. So, sighing, he opened it. "Summoned to face the Senate? Can I see the badge, please?"

The beautiful brunette flashed a stunning, but cold, smile. "Is it necessary?"

"I like to see badges."

She showed the badge. "Still like it?"

Happy drove up with the car and opened the door for Tony and Becky. Tony nodded. "Yep. Okay, see you bright and early."

They didn't return to their spat at all that night, nor did they get a chance before Tony had to appear before the U.S. Senate the following morning.


	3. Chapter 2

When A Bright Idea Dims

By Sinead

_**Author's Note:**__ Thank you for your reviews, story-alerts, author-alerts, and for adding this to your favorite stories lists! I'm honored! I hope that I don't disappoint with this chapter, but it covers some important thought-processes. I'm probably not going to focus much on Ivan Vanko as much on this story until the points that he crosses paths with Stark and Company. _

Chapter Two

"You . . .you, Stark, are an absolute train-wreck in slow motion."

Tony looked up from a screen with wide eyes, shocked. He hit a panic button that shut down anything having to do with his current medical situation as Rebeckah stalked forward in her customary "off-camera" look. She could pull off polished and look like a movie star to the world, but Tony could never get over how gorgeous she was when she was in combat boots, old jeans and a t-shirt that was probably three years old and looked the part.

She had hands on her hips, the ring glittering just as brightly as her simmering gaze.

She was a force of nature.

Tony loved her unconditionally.

"Hi, love. Why's that?" Standing slowly, he walked closer as if he was approaching an irritated tigress. What was up with him seeming to collect women who held their own against him, holding them in positions where he was daily harangued by them? It wasn't masochism.

He loved the challenge of an intelligent woman who, while not on the genius-level that he was on, was in possession of lightning-fast intuition that challenged him. Of course.

"You ran off to the Senate without saying anything to me except through text, leaving me with Happy to watch you mock the Senate, mock their software and operating systems, then show up back at the hotel expecting me packed to go? I mean, what the hell?" She stalked off towards Tony's cars. So of course, he followed her as she continued to rant. This was the first time that they had gotten a chance to talk privately since even before the Expo. "You _still_ think that the world revolves around you!"

"Beck, you know I don't." His voice softened as he walked closer. "You know that."

She whirled to face him, mahogany shoulder-length hair flying out in all directions. "Oh really, now?"

Tony sighed and held his hands out to either side in a helpless expression. "What do you want me to say? What do you want me to do? I'm trying to set things up for—" _For when I'm gone_ wasn't going to be a good way to end that sentence. "For when I can step down from being CEO and focus on _us_, on starting a family, and let my _work_ be my _second_ job."

"That's _not_ how it's coming across to me."

Moving closer, Tony rested his hands upon her shoulders, sliding them down along her arms and down to enfold her petite and deft hands in his larger ones. "I'm sorry. I'm really trying."

"You were hung over on the plane."

Uh-oh. She knew.

"Pepper told me. She said that you've been drinking when I'm not around."

Tony sighed and released Becka's hands to walk over to the old Ford and sit on a fender. "Yeah."

The lecture that he almost expected from her didn't come. Instead, he found himself looking down at her boots and jean-clad legs. Looking up, he found that she crouched and rested her hands on his knees. "Why?"

He shook his head.

"Tony."

"Yeah?"

"You want to marry me?"

His smile was immediate, genuine, loving, bright and his brown eyes shone with happiness. "Yes, of course."

"Then trust me. Open up to me. Please."

"I . . . Beckers, I need you to understand something." He rested his hands on hers, hoping that his thoughts weren't transparent upon his face. She could read him like nobody else ever had. When he had her nod of assent, Tony continued. "There are things that I just can't talk about right now."

"It's not about Yinsen?"

"No."

"Afghanistan?"

"No."

She paused, then sighed deeply. "You're not under contract to the U.S. Department of Defense anymore, so you can't be sworn to secrecy through them."

Tony couldn't handle this. "Please, please don't ask, don't guess. Not yet." Pulling her to her feet, Tony embraced her, resting his head against the bottom of her ribcage and against her stomach, which had since flattened as she worked off sugar weight through martial arts training. He closed his eyes as he listened to her heartbeat. When her hands went down to stroke through his hair and rub his shoulders softly, the man squeezed his eyes tighter together.

But that didn't stop the tears from soaking Becka's t-shirt.

* * *

"Pepper, something's seriously wrong with Tony."

The woman didn't look up from her work of organizing files on a new glass tablet screen that was installed upon one whole wall of the office she used when she was at the Malibu house. Each of the houses that Tony owned had at least a nine-by-nine space where she could retreat to do at least a little work, and for that she was thankful. "There's never been anything 'right' with Mr. Stark and that hasn't changed in the time that you've known him, sad to say."

"No, I mean there's something _seriously_ wrong."

The tone of her voice caused Pepper to turn around and look at Becka before blinking and pausing once. "Did something spatter on your shirt? Where did you get those silver spots?"

The younger woman's face was pale as she stripped the shirt off, and walked over to the desk, revealing a dark tank-top underneath the old shirt. Her voice was solemn, scared. "That's the problem. Those are his tears."

Pepper Potts sat down heavily upon the low bookshelf under the new screen as the women silently stared at the now-ruined shirt.

This wasn't good.

* * *

Waking up to Jarvis' verbal prodding, Tony Stark groaned and rolled off of the couch, dropping the throw blanket on the floor as he made his way back to his desk and activated the desktop again. "You nag worse than Pepper."

"Of course. You've said as much before, sir. You wanted me remind you—"

"I know, I know." Reaching for a thermos of a dark liquid, the man sighed and started to drink down a glass of it. "How much of this gobbledy-gook do I have drink a day?"

"We're up to eighty ounces, sir."

"Nnph," he replied around the glass before setting it to one side and pulling out the silver blood-count device. "Check palladium levels."

Jarvis' voice was neutral as he replied, "Blood toxicity, twenty-four percent." But the AI continued as Tony wiped the blood off of his thumb with a small gauze pad, his mind not really on the pinprick he endured at least twenty-four times a day. "It appears that the continued use of the Iron Man suit is accelerating your condition."

Sitting silent and stoically, Tony processed this information and decided that he had to start making all the decisions necessary to get everything in place before his time came. Considering that at the opening ceremony of the Expo his blood read only nineteen percent toxicity, the man was sure that things were really starting to heat up, and not in any way that he liked. Four percent toxicity in just over twenty-four hours was twice as fast as it had been last week. If things kept speeding up like this, he was bound to be facing his mortality within the next month, six weeks if he was able to stretch his time on earth.

He didn't have much time, and wanted to secure two things in place before he was gone.

"Another core has been depleted."

Obligingly, Tony lifted his shirt and pulled the miniature arc reactor out of his chest. After the initial idiocy that had occurred regarding plugging the damn thing into the base plate had passed, he had redesigned the RT to be interchangeable. Thankfully, that also meant that he could replace the palladium cores whenever they needed it. When he held it up and triggered the device to open and reveal the metal core, he winced. "God, they're running out quick."

Jarvis was quick to reply, "I've run simulations on every known element. None can serve as a replacement for the palladium core."

While he had been talking, Tony had been switching out the old core for a new one, trying not to think about what he was doing and what it meant.

"You are running out of both time and options. Unfortunately, the device that is keeping you alive is also killing you."

Clicking it into place and breathing shallowly as he felt the power run through his chest again, Tony's handsome face was transformed into a concerned frown while he ran through everything he possibly could speculate upon in regards to his current state of affairs.

He knew what to do about the CEO position in his company.

He knew what to do for Happy and how to make sure that the man would never need to work for the rest of his life unless he _wanted_ to.

He knew what to do in regards to Becka, and was going to be putting everything she needed to know in a file that would be accessible to her on the occasion of his death. And as much as she was unhappy with him right now, Tony knew that they _had_ to be officially married before that point in order for him to will everything he owned into her capable, steady hands. That was the hard part.

"Miss Potts is approaching. I recommend that you inform her of—"

"Mute," Tony commanded as he looked up and hit the panic button again, returning the screens to their normal status of hot rods. Oh. _She_ was mad at him, too.

"Is this a joke?" she asked right off the bat, her tone dead serious. "What are you thinking?"

Damn. Everything was about _death_ to Tony today. "What?"

"What are you _thinking_?"

"Hey, I'm thinking that I'm busy. And you're . . . angry. About something." Probably the fact that he had donated a bunch of art that had been gathering dust in climate-controlled storage in some remote area of California.

"Did you just _donate_ our entire modern art collection to the Boy Scouts of America?"

Muttering his thought in regards to how it was a worthwhile cause, that it was _his_ collection, not _ours_ and disregarding her snarl that she had curated that collection over the past ten years.

Ten years? Had she been working for him for that long? Probably longer, actually. Tony lost track of all the years she had been at his side, but he was grateful for every moment, whether he had been sober at the time or not. Up until last year, usually not sober.

Oh, right. Tax write-ups about the donation . . . but Pep would still be pissy about the donation anyway. She was moving onto other topics, and Tony was evading them all as he continued to get her mad, which he always enjoyed and couldn't help himself as he baited her endlessly.

Finally, he had her right where he wanted her. By the couches, and Dummy was rolling over discreetly.

He stared at her. "You do it."

"I do _what_?"

"_You_ run the company."

"Yeah." She glared at him with that wonderful intense gaze of hers. "I'm _trying_ to run the company."

"Well stop _trying_ to do it and _do_ it."

"Well, you not giving me the information that I _need_—"  
"Well, I'm not asking you to try to do it, I'm asking you to _physically_ do it. I need you to do it."

"I _am_—"

"Pepper! You're not listening to me!"  
"No, you're not listening to _me_!"

Tony's voice shifted from intense to sincere. "I'm trying to make you CEO! Why won't you let me?"

Pepper was silent for one long moment, keeping her thoughts regarding his sanity under wraps as she blurted the first thing that came into her mind. "Have you been drinking?"

He knew that she was going to give in.

And once they drank in celebration together, he checked that one large item off of his to-do list in his mind.

Next, set up the trust funds for Happy.

And after that, he'd have to figure out a way to get to a fertility clinic and as humiliating it was going to be, he was going to have to set that special something-something aside for his wife-to-be. She wanted kids, and he did too, even if he wasn't going to be able to raise them with her. Becka was a strong woman, and she was going to be an amazing mother. But he needed to set aside the means to provide a biological heir to the Stark name.

He wanted to cry again. Damnit.


	4. Chapter 3

When A Bright Idea Dims

By Sinead

_**Author's Note:**__ I'm feeling so impatient in wanting to get to the "good stuff" of this story that I almost am at a writer's block with the "set up!" It's funny to think about, but at the same time, I'm also quite annoyed because I really do want to flesh out where Tony and Becka have been in the past few months as well as starting to set out where they're going to be in the following years. Longish chapter, now that I'm looking at it._

Chapter Three

The gym was set up with a traditional boxing ring domineering the generously-sized room. Mirrors adorned one wall while another wall was made completely of glass as it overlooked the Pacific Ocean. There was matting set out for traditional martial arts that faced the mirrors, which was where Becka often practiced with her personal trainer of choice.

Today, however, because of the energetic bouncing around that Happy and Tony were doing, the duo moved out to the balcony, shoved the furniture to one side, and ran through katas while the sea breeze played with their clothing. Tony wasn't happy that he had pushed his fiancé out of the room, but he was agitated and it was coming through his physical movements. He was signing his company over to Pepper today. But somehow, he knew that his woman understood and instead of saying something to calm him down, she let him work things out physically. She was prone to do the same on some occasions when she was around him but couldn't figure out what it was that was bothering her.

Tony never could tell what physical activity it was that she did, only that when she returned from it, there was a sheen of sweat on her brow and her breathing was of the calm and deep sort that one develops after a strenuous workout that leaves one refreshed afterwards. He knew when she was going swimming at the local gym, but everything else? She was a mystery. He'd have to ask her soon about what she does.

Turning his mind back to his boxing lesson with Happy, Tony jabbed twice with his left, hooked with his right, and did a follow-up jab with his left.

"Faster on that third jab!"

"Tony, the notary's here!" Pepper's voice interrupted the lesson as she walked in with the click of expensive heels.

"I'm on Happy time!" he replied, not taking his eyes off of his opponent, desperate to understand more of hand-to-hand combat in order that he be able to fight more efficiently when in the suit. Maybe he should have taken Becka up on the idea of learning kung-fu, which she was following through with now, but be damned if he didn't know the style name. She was starting to show that she could move in deadly-swift motions. He threw a couple more jabs, then instinctively threw his right elbow into Happy's face, wincing and apologizing immediately. "Sorry. I'm sorry."

"What the hell was that?"

"Mixed martial arts. It's been around about . . . three weeks."

"It's _dirty boxing_ and there's nothing new about it."

Becka, having finished the first half of her katas, walked back into the gym just as the notary walked in. The first thing through the future Mrs. Stark's mind was that she was glad that she wasn't the youngest in the room anymore. The second thing was that she wondered how long this hot young thing was going to last. Her sensei, a middle-aged man who had been a dancer prior to learning serious martial arts, raised one eyebrow before walking to the mats first. He knew of the infamous Stark appetite for beautiful women, but wasn't going to say anything. Hopefully Mr. Stark had gotten rid of that while attempting to settle down.

Happy stared at the notary from legal for a moment, his eyes leaving Tony's face.

That caused Tony to look.

Natalie Rushman found herself scrutinized by three people and found herself not liking the sensation much at all. Becka broke the moment by walking past Tony, tossing him a bottle of his black-looking liquid and saying, "You're going to have to massage out my left leg tonight. I pulled it yesterday and it's seizing up here and there today. That was _your_ fault that I ended up chasing after you last night."

Pepper, having realized that Tony was trying to kill his appetite for women, smiled and added, "I promise that this is the last time I will ask you to sign over your company."

Happy landed a good hit to the back of Tony's head.

Chaos resumed, and it didn't stop when Natalie entered the ring. Becka and her sensei paused to watch as Happy mocked the girlie-boxing that the notary had possibly done, each having watched her walk and realize that her posture and balance indicated a variety of things.

But it all boiled down to the fact that this chick could probably lay Happy Hogan out flat on his back in less than a minute. Neither were surprised at it happening, but their faces were painted with shock at the efficiency of Natalie's movements.

Becka made sure to keep this woman's face in her mind. She didn't trust Natalie Rushman, not after how the woman handled Happy. And when she looked at Pepper, Becka saw her own frown of mistrust mirrored iota for iota. Rushman was not good news in Stark Enterprises.

* * *

"I think that I'm going to be hiring Natalie for my new assistant."

Becka put down the book she was reading while Tony fiddled with something or another on his virtual desktop. "What?"

Tony didn't look at his future wife. "She's got a vibe to her that I think I can work with."

"Yeah, last I heard, that 'vibe' was called _sex appeal_."

"No, it's not that." His hands paused momentarily before resuming working on whatever it was that he was working on. "Did you see the way that she took Happy down?"

Standing and walking over to Tony, the young woman nodded, not afraid to show her displeasure. "I don't like how fast she did it. And you hate bodyguards."

"I never said bodyguard. She'd make a great assistant, though. She's not afraid of people bigger than her, and when you're a notary working in a world of big people and big names, that's a good thing to have."

"Pepper was right in amending that statement by claiming that she'd also make a great sexual harassment suit. Tony, I'm not comfortable with her being in the picture, not so close to you, anyway."

This was different. Becka didn't often get touchy about people getting close to Tony. She would often encourage him to branch out from time to time, not that he needed the encouragement, the party-man that he often was. Most people that he knew to be sycophants and social ladder climbers would often be just as displeasing for Becka, even if she didn't know what they were all about. But for them to be at odds about someone?

Well, not just someone. Another woman.

"Are you jealous? Envious?"

Blue eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

"Because if you are, that's okay."

"Is it?"

Maybe not? "Well, it _could_ be okay."

"I don't trust her, Tony, plain and simple."

"What if I feel that I can trust her, though?"

"Not good enough for me."

"Why?"

Sighing explosively, Rebeckah walked to one of the cars and sat on the hood. "Why? She's gorgeous. She has great curves, long legs, long, curly hair, and has that doe-eyed look that desires to capture every man in the room. She _knows_ she's gorgeous and knows that she can play men like pawns. Trust me, I know the mentality."

"So you think that I'm attracted to her?"

"From the way you were staring at her _oh_ so obviously earlier today? _And_ the flirt afterwards?"

"I was trying to make friends, and I wasn't trying to flirt."

"Uh-huh."

Tony took his turn to sigh gustily. "Okay, we're just going to fight endlessly about this unless we get to the point of things. You don't trust her, I do, and I want her as my assistant. Why don't you want her to be my assistant?"

Calming herself enough to get her thoughts out just right, Becka replied, "Because maybe I want to be the only woman you look at, the only one you need to rely upon."

Well, he couldn't argue with that. Damn. Standing and walking to his love's side, he wrapped her in an embrace, holding her close and wishing that this would last forever. "Can we get married soon, please?"

"Why?"

"Because . . . I want to _show_ you that you're the only woman for me, and I want to show you that you're the only one that I want to look at." Tony tipped her chin up to rest his nose to hers. "Being chaste isn't my idea of a fun time, and I'll admit to that openly. But this isn't about my issues. I want to be able to look at you and introduce you to everyone as my wife, not as my fiancé. I want to be able to share everything I have with you on every level."

Becka turned her head into his chest and sighed, closing her eyes and holding onto his torso firmly.

"Darlin', I want to spend the rest of my life with you in every waking moment, and I'm impatient on that. You leave every night to sleep at your own apartment when you know that I have a room set up here for you."

"But we're not married."

"And I want to fix that."

"But why do you want that whore to be your assistant?"

"That was . . . blunt of you." But Tony was smiling, not really disappointed in the unforgiving nature of his fiancé's speech.

"I don't like her, I don't trust her, and she walks like a streetwalker."

"Give her _some_ credit. I don't think that she wavers when trying to walk a straight line."

"But still."

Chuckling, the billionare hugged his lady tighter. She spoke up from his chest, her voice muffled by muscle and fabric. "So? Why do you want her to be your assistant?"

He made the list in his mind, then started talking. Thinking before talking saved him from having to try to reason with an angry woman. He learned that from Pepper. "Foreign things, little things that while I know you would try to do, she could do easier. Monaco's coming up, and you don't even _like_ the French language, and I know that you're not going to speak it fluently. She can maneuver through situations like that easily. French. Spanish. Russian. Latin."

"I speak Japanese damn well, but you don't want to go there. They compete pretty well with your inventions."

"I built you that Japanese garden at the Stark Expo."

"From my designs _and_ it's in New York. We're in Malibu."

"Yeah. Sorry."

"No you're not."

"Of course I'm not sorry. It gives you reason to visit the Expo more often. That, and you couldn't keep yourself from crying when you saw the Zen gardens and the cherry trees. But I can always find some property and build you a Japanese garden here in California if you'd like."

Smiling, she shook her head. "Save it for our five-year anniversary."

He wouldn't be there for that one. Sorry, love. He lied. "I'll even have a pavilion set up for our getaway vacation. What do you think of that for a plan?"

"Perfect."

"So can I hire her?"

Groaning, Becka looked up at Tony. "Fine. But I don't want her over here unless it's necessary, and I don't want to see her more than twice a week unless we're in a foreign country and it's necessary that she interpret for us."

"I speak fluid French, by the way."

"Not like you speak it to me."

"I know better than to do so."

Finally cracking a smile, Becka reached up and stroked her love's cheek softly. "So answer me this one final question."

"Anything."

"Why do you _really_ want to get married so fast?"

Of course it was the one question that he didn't want to answer. So he tried to deliberate, but he couldn't lie into her eyes like this. He couldn't do anything. He was trapped by her gaze, compelled to answer. "Because . . . I want to be with you. Not even in a sexual manner, even. But I want to be with you, sharing your company every day from midnight to midnight. I don't want to wait to see you every morning, or see you off every night. I want to wake up next to you and roll over to just _hold_ you. I want to share my life with you, my future." Swallowing, he brought up the one subject that they had avoided for the last few months. "I want to start my family with you, and I'm aching for that fact alone."

Ever since the forced abortion, Becka had tried not to think about the child they had lost. She had done fine for the last six months and had stopped waking up to the sound of her own sobs, but at hearing the brokenness in her love's voice, her face crumpled up and she let the tears fall down her cheeks. They had both loved their unborn child deeply, desperately wanting to parent the little one together.

Tony wiped her tears, whispering, "Yinsen was right. I have had everything . . . and nothing. You're the most amazing woman in the world, and you love me when I'm at my worst. I love you when you're at your worst and most difficult, too. I admire your strength of will, and know that it's the only will, save for Yinsen's, that can effectively match mine. You've seen me throw temper tantrums and have been a steady hand in telling me to get up off my lazy ass and get back to work. I think you've even said those very words to me a few times. Besides. We don't need a big wedding now. We can do a big wedding later." Maybe. If he could find a way to fix the issue of palladium poisoning. "Just you, me, a minister, your folks and our friends. We can have it at the Japanese gardens, even. Wherever you want, whenev—"

Becka kept her lips pressed against Tony's, keeping him silent as he wrapped arms around her and squeezed her close to him. Their eyes closed as the quick kiss turned into a passionate one. The passionate kiss softened into a tender series of gentle kisses that Tony extended along Becka's jawline. Just before he nipped at her earlobe, he stopped himself, aware that his control wasn't fine-tuned to begin with and in that they were breaking his control, he could very well go overboard. Both were breathing hard.

Tony felt a hand gripping hard to the hair at the back of his head, and he carefully disentangled his own hand from Becka's hair. "You know how well you kiss?"

"Umm, kinda."

"You're a wonderful kisser. I think it's a good think that we don't kiss more often, now. Good choice in fighting for that stance."

Finally opening her eyes, showing that she was still floating just from the kiss, Becka only murmured, "Mm?"

"Because I honestly wouldn't have been persuaded to have kept my hands off of you otherwise." He smiled and nuzzled her cheek, closing his eyes and glad that she . . . wait. Did she say yes to the quick wedding? "Babe, what's your answer on that?"

She was slow to reply, but it was a reply at the very least. "Let me think about it over the next two days."

"So by the time we land in Monaco, will you have your answer ready?"

"Yes."

"Very cool."


	5. Chapter 4

When A Bright Idea Dims  
By Sinead

_**Author's Note:**__ MONACO! Yeah. Me? Make the Monaco act fit into one chapter? Ha! Not likely. Not even the novelization fit it into one chapter! Then again, I like to drag things out a little, add in my own flair to things. We'll get back to the romance after the action. Sorry about the lack of an update. I had this written, had to go through it and edit it, and then I got a quasi-promotion at work where my hours are increased (thank God), but since I'm training myself for the position, I'm exhausted when I get home and don't want to write. So this has been sitting on my harddrive for the last . . . month, almost a month and a half. The only creative inspiration that I had expressed had been for playing with clay._

_Many apologies for the wait! Please forgive me!_

Chapter Four

"Can we make this go faster?" Tony was eager to be schmoozing with the big names. He was beyond happy. They had set a date for their wedding, sent out a save-the-date, and had even gotten a couple replies to the new email account that they had set up just for this occasion, asking if it was a shotgun wedding because _Tony_ had gotten pregnant.

Tony. Not Becka.

Tony was the only person not laughing at that question. Becka did. She found it ironic.

"No, sir, we're part of a motorcade. That means that we go at the pace that they've set." Happy was driving safely, enjoying going at a slower pace than what he normally drove at for his boss.

"Balls." Sitting back, Tony wrapped his arm around Becka's shoulders, smiling and leaning over to kiss her cheek, resting his nose against her cheekbone and breathing in the scent of _her_. She was wearing some light perfume, something invigorating and yet grounded. It smelled like it had been created just for her, to her desires and specifications. "Mm. Where did you get this scent?"

"Discount rack at a department store. It looked interesting."

"Really? What is it?" He took another deep breath of the smell.

"The _Star Trek_ perfume called _Pon Farr_."

Tony pulled back, staring at her. "No."

"Yeah. Smells fantastic, doesn't it?"

"Geek."

"Pot calling the kettle black?"

Grinning like a schoolboy, Tony knew that he was going to piss Pepper off in about five minutes the moment that they rolled up to the Hotel De Paris, where the rich and famous (or just rich) were drinking and enjoying pre-gaming in high-class glory. Getting out of the Rolls Royce, he held his hand out to help Becka out, who was looking fantastic in a red and black cocktail dress. It was cut in a soft fashion, showed off just the right curves, left things to the imagination, and her hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail to show off her graceful neck. She wore low but sophisticated heels, which seemed odd to Tony, but didn't question it. They pulled the outfit together, since they were of a delicate design.

They posed for cameras, Tony flashing a peace sign and Becka waving to a few people who were intent upon getting her attention. She smiled brightly, and once Pepper and Happy moved around the car to follow them in, she muttered in an aside, "Does Pepper know who arrived here before us to make preparations?"

"Not. A. Clue."

"She's gonna kill you."

"Yeah. Probably." But Tony was grinning as they walked through the doors. Happy left their group at the door to the lounge, moving to a place where he could grab a quick smoke, his hand holding on tightly to the football.

The football was a suitcase-looking red and silver block of metal that could fold out into a portable Iron Man suit. It wasn't great, it wasn't fancy, and there were bugs that Tony was working out on it, but aside from all the trouble, it should do in a pinch. Hopefully, it could even do more than just minimal damage to an opponent, but Tony would just have to field-test it and find out. He brought it along just as insurance. Being without his armor anywhere off of US soil made him itchy and nervous. He turned to Pepper. "Now, just to make sure, whatever happens in the next twenty minutes, just go with it."

"Go with it?" the new Stark CEO asked in a half-panic.

"Like go with _that_."

They were greeted in another woman in red, only her outfit was a bit more bold and sexy. Rebeckah wanted to take her out back and tell her that when one says "less is more," they weren't talking about clothing.

"Mr. Stark! Hello, how was your flight?" Natalie asked with a smile aimed only at her boss. Becka knew how to fake a smile. It was all in the eyes. So she faked being happy to see Natalie, just like Natalie faked being happy to be seeing Becky.

"It was excellent, thank you."

"It's nice to see you," Becky added on. "I don't speak French and have no desire to learn unless I have to move to France."

"Then I'll be happy to assist you as well, Ms. Fahey. There's a photographer here from the Associated Press who would like to take your picture."

Tony couldn't wait for people to call Becka as "Mrs. Stark" in his presence. That would be absolutely fantastic. He moved so that he was between Pepper and his woman, posing naturally as if they were talking and smiling at each other, not at odds at all.

"When did this happen?" Pepper asked through her smile. "When?"

"You made me do it," he replied as Becky turned to smile directly at the camera a beat before the other two did.

"You quit. Smile." They turned to face the camera in unison, still smiling and looking for all the world like they were happy with each other. "Stop acting constipated."

"You are so predictable."

"Don't flare your nostrils."

Becka watched as Pepper grabbed her drink and the photographer walked off. Natalie outlined the day's schedule for them while they smiled and nodded to the other rich people in the lounge. When Tony demanded to have the corner table, Becka muttered, "So is there anyone here that we need to keep an eye out for?"

"Hammer. Remember what I did to him in the Senate hearing?"

"Yeah. He wasn't too happy that he was manipulated like that."

"Yeah. I do _not_ like that man. He cuts corners and doesn't field test half as much as he should. His work is shoddy, and he's a terrible salesman to boot. His personality is worse than mine."

"Considering the rumors I've heard that he's had to _pay_ for nightly companionship, I'd have to agree with you."

"Are we going to have this talk about my sexual history in public?"

"Nope. Private. Tonight. I need to know things."

"Which you are entirely entitled to, darling. Pepper, are you okay? You want a massage? I can have Natalie make an appointment. I don't want you to be tense."

Becka fell in step beside Pepper as they made their way to the bar, possibly for Tony to order a drink of his choosing, as well as for Becka to do the same. She didn't like most of the hard-alcohol and didn't like tasting it if it was avoidable, preferring light-on-tequila margaritas.

"Oh, I don't want Natalie to do a thing for me," came the new CEO's reply in a level, calm voice. That was something Tony prided her on. She was great at this kind of stuff. You know, not showing too much emotion when any other woman would be snarling and throwing a hissy fit.

"Green is not a great color on you."

"Please, will you stop?"

Becka's eyes widened very slightly as she saw a face that she hadn't wanted to see. "Tony. You jinxed it."

"I what?" He genuinely looked confused.

"Anthony! Is that you?"

He knew that obnoxious voice anywhere. "My least favorite person in the world, Justin Hammer."

"How ya doin'? You're not the only rich guy here with a fancy car or women following in his wake."

"Careful what you say about my fiancé and my CEO. They're not women to be trifled with." Tony was smiling as he said it, but his words were as firm as steel.

Hammer didn't pay that any attention. "You know Christine Everhart from _Vanity Fair_?"

Some things didn't get to some women. However, there was one thing that would get to every woman on the face of the earth, and that was facing down a former fling of a current lover. Cracking her knuckles carefully under the din of the bar, the Bostonian woman was about to play some dirty cards.

Pepper heard the clicks and knew that if _she_ didn't say or do something to diffuse the situation, there was going to be a full-on problem. Tony was often oblivious to the machinations of women or how they reacted to some things.

"Hi," Pepper said calmly, hoping that if she interrupted this before it happened, there wouldn't be blood to clean off of the expensive carpets.

"Yes. Roughly." Tony turned, ignoring Pepper's attempt at dissolving the looming confrontation, his back moving like it was welded in a straight line. He rested his arm around his fiancé's waist at that moment, holding on to her carefully, nonverbally warning her that this was something he could handle and was going to do so because he didn't want Becka to deal with it. He and Pep would show her the dance of politics and double-edged words that celebrities and wannabe celebrities used.

Justin pointed to Pepper, using his hand to accentuate the syllables of "Bee-Tee-Double-You," and he dropped his hand, "the big story, the new CEO of Stark Industries. Congratulations."

"Oh, thank you," Pepper Potts replied, smiling and nodding, none too happy to see this man.

"My editor will kill me if I don't get a quote from you for our Powerful Women issue."

"Oh. Sure, we can arrange that."

"She's actually doing a big spread on me in _Vanity Fair_, and I thought I'd throw her a bone."

Tony watched carefully with the expression on his face of aloof disbelief before shaking his head and gently squeezing Becka closer to his side. Hammer just opened himself up for a volley of insults that he just wouldn't say in public.

"Oh really? She did quite the spread on Tony last year . . ."

"And she did a story, as well."

"I've the feeling she did better work on the story," Becka said with a smile. "I read it on the plane before my own stint in a cave. Decent quality work."

"You know, you're right," Tony said with a grin. "Think she could help me write my autobiography?"

"Will this be before or after vodka?"

"I _can't_ handle Russian products for some reason," Tony explained, smiling. "They just don't agree with my system."

"I'm going to go to the washroom." Pepper excused herself before the conversation turned more sour.

"I'll join you," the younger woman said, which clearly left Tony in a panic.

"Don't leave me," Tony begged under his breath, mask of confidence still in place.

Smiling and sauntering off behind the stalking CEO, Becky knew that any more time around Everhart and she'd kill something, blow a fuse, or say something that would brand her in the public eye for all of time. One thing she had learned from Tony's vast amount of experience was "watch out what you say to _any_ member of the press or media."

Once in the washroom, Pepper sighed explosively. "I'm gonna kill him. Did you know about Natalie?"

"Yes. And I told him that I don't want to see her more than twice a week."

"Great. You know he's not going to listen."

As Pepper cooled off, Becka leaned against the cool wall of the expensive bathroom. Her voice lowered. "Is it just me or has he been slipping?"

"You mean into his old persona? Yeah. He's been doing that."

"Why would he? What could cause him to be more impulsive and scattered than usual?" Turning to a mirror to check and make sure that her makeup was still in place, the almost-Stark leaned her hands on the marble ledge, staring into her own eyes as if she could find the answer.

"I think it has to do with whatever he's not telling us."

"That's what I was thinking, too." Drawing in a deep breath and releasing it slowly, Rebeckah straightened and looked at herself before turning to the woman she greatly respected and admired. "So what do we do? You've known him longer. What _can_ we do?"

"Move along at his pace and help him the best that we can in hopes that he figures out whatever it is that's driving him insane, then be open with us. As CEO, I can't have Stark's greatest asset go rogue. So we have to work with him in order to try to guide him into such a place that he'll trust one of us." Pepper paused, then added, "And hopefully, everything would work out fine by that point."

When they walked back out to the lounge, Tony was nowhere in sight, but Natalie guided them over to their corner table, leaving them to stand a few feet away for privacy. Neither gave the missing man much thought until they saw him again.

Only now, it was on the television screens.


	6. Chapter 5

When A Bright Idea Dims

By Sinead

_**Author's Note:**__ Monaco, part the second. Sorry for the delay. A lot of things started to come up, so I've had to prioritize where my time has been spent. Most of it has been allotted to preparation for and the actual renaissance faire, followed by getting into a school, which I start in this coming week. So to say that my writing took a back seat (and my original fiction is flagging) is an understatement. And for the record . . . I really hate Justin Hammer. -.-_

_Thank you everyone for the story watches and favorites! Reviews also do help the world go round and help keep me inspired to write chapters faster!_

Chapter Five

"Becka, stay here," Happy ordered as he got into the car, the football still locked to his wrist.

Shoving her head through the passenger window, Becka snarled, "Are you kidding me? I'm coming with you!"

"Don't argue! Tony will kill me if he finds out that you got hurt again!" the chauffer/impromptu bodyguard hissed, his eyes pleading with the young woman to understand. "I'm not going to be held responsible for putting you into danger. Stay. Here. The police have orders to escort you to wherever you want to be, but you are _not_ getting into the car with us."

Closing the door and taking off with the screech of tires, Happy's face folded into a frown immediately. Pepper's voice was soft. "How dangerous are we talking, here?"

"Trust me." He watched the lone figure in black and red stare after them for a moment before turning and trotting back inside the hotel. "I didn't tell her to stay away from the track."

"You couldn't have just _told_ her to go down that way?"

"No. Because then Tony would blame me for putting her in harm's way. She'll get down there either way, and then Boss-Man can be angry at her for putting herself into danger."

That was when Happy aimed the Rolls Royce towards the closed gate.

* * *

Three escorts with her, one making the way for her in the crowd, one beside her, the third following a step behind, Becka made her way down to the track, but stopped just at the edge of the stands, taking the side of caution. She _wanted_ to go down there and to see what it was that this man was doing, standing in the middle of the track, but she was physically out-matched and didn't feel like facing very fast race cars speeding by her and missing her frame by inches.

When the metal whips that dangled from his hands began to glow in a familiar light, Rebeckah gripped the railing in front of her and leaned in. This was going to get really bad, really fast, and if she was any judge of arc tech and the power, then what this man was sporting very well could be more powerful than Iron Monger, who was sheer brute force.

The police were shouting orders, getting everyone back from the stands. Ignoring that order and darting under the stands themselves, dodging through the supports while hearing what she could only assume were curses in French trailing behind her, Becka came out a few feet down the road from the madman, able to see his swarthy face for the first time, but only from an angle as he began wrecking hell.

She didn't like what she saw upon his countenance, and when he used a whip to cut through the first car, she liked him even less.

But she couldn't do anything but watch as Tony's car came around the bend and was mangled, shorn into two and separating the front fourth of the car from the remaining chassis, sending it flying through the air. Her cry of horror was lost in the millions of screams around her as people did everything that they could to get away. In her mind, she knew that these cars were built to withstand great impacts and drivers could walk away from a crushed and mangled vehicle, but her heart was pounding with stress and worry as she waited to see a sign of life from the white car. He was now fifty feet back in the direction that she had come from, his car stopped at the bend.

When she saw him dodging the whips, her heart soared . . . then plummeted. He didn't have his suit . . . he didn't have a chance! As if timing to her thoughts, Tony was sent flying into another car from a small explosion. If Pepper and Happy got to him in time with the football, then he'd be all right, provided that he wasn't seriously injured before that point.

Watching the battle from fifty, then thirty feet, was terrifying, but Becka had been in worse situations, for a longer amount of time, and had been directly face-to-face with terrorists. While the populace was panicking, she was running through ideas, plans, and discarding them all as they came up, knowing that her escort was relieved in the fact that she _wasn't_ running headlong into danger.

The one thing that Rebeckah hated more than anything in the world was to be feeling as if she was useless. But in this situation, she most certainly _was_ useless. She was a hazard, a liability, and knew that if she distracted Tony for even a third of a second, it could mean life or death.

So as much as she hated it, she stayed put to watch this battle to the end.

* * *

Having been in combat situations many times over the previous year, Tony slid right into the strategy and tactics part of his mind, planning his moves as he went, careful not to be out-maneuvered. He needed the football . . . he needed . . .

Tony was trapped. Wire fence behind him, whip-guy in front of him.

If he could be persuaded into having a deep-rooted faith in God, Tony still wouldn't have expected the miracle that was his Rolls Royce with Happy driving it coming around the bend and heading . . . straight for him. And not slowing down.

Cursing, leaping straight up and clawing his way up the fence, the billionaire watched as whip-guy was pinned between car and cement barrier. Looking around for the way down, Tony's heart leapt to his throat at seeing Becka. She motioned frantically, pointing down and motioning throwing something.

Right. She was keeping his head in the game. God, he loved her. Happy had the football, which was just the thing that he needed if this guy was going to prove to be a big problem. Jumping down amid another flurry of curses for Happy at the top of his lungs, Tony opened the door to get into his car when suddenly, the door wasn't attached to the car anymore. Everyone was yelling and screaming while Happy, obligingly, hit whip-guy again.

Chaos began to flurry around them, and Tony did everything he could to get his hands on that damn suit-in-a-suitcase. Finally, moving around to Pepper's side, he yelled for her to throw it out the . . . Well, there was no more window. Fine, to throw it out of the car and to him.

When she did, Iron Man took control of the situation.

* * *

Once Tony was in the suit, Becka's heart-rate started to drop into normal levels again. Natalie caught up with her, then started to run towards the battle. Grabbing the woman's arm, Becka snarled, "You stay out of his fight and you stay back here. You might have great combat skills, but even you must be able to tell that his weapons out-match yours." Letting her go with a jerk and walking ahead a pace just to physically tell Natalie that _she_ was in charge, Rebeckah waited the battle out, arms crossed over her chest. She felt bat for the way that she was acting, but would apologize later if the girl realized just what kind of mess she would have created by storming in there.

"You aren't my boss."

"That's right; Tony is. And if you want him to stay alive and to stay your boss, then you'd better keep yourself right here."

"You say that as if you know that he's going to win."

"He is."

Natalie stared at the back of this woman's head and realized something quite startling. The files she had been given on Tony and Rebeckah weren't at all complete. They were partial files and didn't go into depth on two very major situations, nor did they go into detail about the aftermath of the second situation. Their time in the caves was glossed over, and the incident with Iron Monger was also glossed over, as well as the recovery from both. That could be because of doctor-patient confidentiality, but at the same time, Natalie had the nagging suspicion that the parties involved had quite a bit to do with the lack of intel in regards to their relationship.

But finally, someone _outside_ of their trusted circle was able to begin to make an observation upon the actual "missing pieces" of the puzzle that surrounded their relationship and the circumstances that brought them together.

Becka trusted Tony implicitly, and she knew his capabilities. But did she know what Natalie knew? Did she know that Tony was slowly dying from palladium poisoning?

Then . . . it was all over. The man with the whips was being dragged away, and Rebeckah was running down to the track, the escort following a step behind her as she vaulted over a locked gate and up to the Iron Man, glad that she had chosen the smaller heels that had a better grip than the classic pumps that Pepper had been trying to suggest she wear. Feeling heat radiating off of the armor, she looked to some of the techs, motioning for gloves before trying to touch the metal. She'd gotten blisters before, and that had only made a post-mission Tony Stark all the pissier and guiltier. "Tony . . ."

"Don't want to talk."

She didn't even hesitate with her answer, nodding her assent. "Let's get you out of that armor, then, and into something easier to wear." And that was all that was said as she accepted gloves, as she looked to Pepper to see if she and Happy were all right. Getting a tense, wincing nod from the woman as medical crews were moving around them, Becka turned her attention back to Tony. She had been with him as he had designed and played with this portable armor, and knew how to get it off of him if it was damaged. First to go was the helmet, and she motioned for gauze at seeing the cut on his cheek.

Sneering and moving his head away from the medic that tried to assist them, Becka took the gauze and grabbed his armor with her other hand and didn't let him flinch away, cleaning the cut gently, despite the fact that she had thick leather gloves on. She wasn't even mad, and she wasn't in any way showing that she was anything more than a partner, an assistant, and someone who was picking up the slack.

At seeing that she knew what she was doing and had somewhere along the line received training in first aid, the medic left a first-aid kit to her and moved on. Moving without words in a silent bubble that enveloped just the two of them, the pair moved as a team to get the broken armor off of Tony. When he would get stuck getting a piece of armor off, she would grab the troublesome piece and begin to wrench it into the "release" position, then move on from there once it either broke off with the next movement, or slid into the proper position where the armor could detach normally.

Pausing at getting the top half of the armor off, Becka pulled his head down for a kiss, resting her forehead against his. "You scared me."

"I was scared."

Silent for another few moments, wrapping arms around each other and holding on for a long moment, the duo were unaware of the activity that was happening around them until flashes started to go off, signifying that the press had returned to the track. Pressing her face into his chest, feeling the warmth of the arc reactor against her cheek, Becka, for once, didn't care about the press as she and her fiancé stood in the middle of wreckage, happy and merely content to be alive beside one another for another sunset.


	7. Chapter 6

When A Bright Idea Dims

By Sinead

_**Author's Note:**__ Sorry that this took a while . . . I'm job-hunting while going to school for 20 hours a week as well as acting for 16 hours on the weekend. Busy schedule and a lot of personal stress that should chill out a little once the Faire is over and I have a job. Thank you all for your reviews and story watches!_

Chapter Six

_"Palladium in the chest . . . painful way to die."_

Those words echoed through his mind all through the night, keeping him up. Finally, unable to take any more tossing and turning, Tony got out of bed and walked to the other side of the luxury apartment that was being rented while they were in Monaco. He paused outside the door, then bit his lip and opened it silently, walking into Becka's room and closing the door behind him. He didn't want to wake her up.

Sitting upon the bed beside his sleeping lover, Tony let himself watch her peaceful face. He wanted to be able to fix this problem, to be able to live past the next few weeks. He knew that once Becka saw his chest, she would know that he didn't have much time left. She would know that he wasn't dying as slowly as everyone else was around them; that his due date was creeping up faster than he was letting anyone know.

Running a hand over his face, Tony sighed and gently stood, walking to the window and staring up at the stars. Yinsen . . . Yinsen would know what to do in this situation if he was still alive.

"Nn . . . Tony?"

"Hey," he whispered, smiling and turning, walking back to the bed and stroking the hair out of Becka's face while he crouched closer to her. "Go back to sleep."

She frowned, then yawned and replied, "Then stop hovering. In the bed or go back to your own."

"You're letting me stay with you tonight?" This wasn't usually like her. But then again, today hadn't been a usual day.

"The offer runs out in five seconds," came the sleepy mutter.

Smiling and slipping under the covers, wrapping his chilled arms around her and hearing her muttered protests about body temperatures, Tony felt her sigh and settle back into a deep sleep, one arm around his waist, the other between their chests, resting in the space between his heart and his arc reactor, fingers overlapping both parts of his chest. Kissing the top of her head and sighing, Tony looked up at the ceiling, taking the problem up again.

Yinsen had told him not to waste the gift of his life. He had imparted a great amount of wisdom in a short amount of time to both Tony and Becka. And the truth of the matter was that the time spent in the caves had bonded the two of them so closely that working together was more along their instincts than working apart was.

So what should he do? How should he plan this?

Closing his eyes and burying his face against Rebeckah's crown, Anthony Edward Stark let himself stop thinking, enjoying the simple sensation of being able to hold his fiancé.

* * *

"Mister Stark?" Natalie walked into the apartment, Pepper and Happy behind her. She went up to the ajar door, opening it and frowning, turning to look around for her boss. Happy held his hands up, indicating that she wait where she was as Pepper silently opened the other bedroom door in the first floor of this apartment, peeked in, then closed it again to walk back to his side. "They're both in there, still sleeping. Happy? Want to make breakfast with me?"

"You're going to make breakfast when we're expected back in the States in less than twelve hours?" Natalie hissed, eyes wide with shock.

Looking to one another, then to the newbie, neither replied and instead headed to the kitchen to wake the slumbering couple with smells of bacon, eggs, pancakes, waffles, and maple syrup. Not surprisingly, they stumbled out together with identical bleary-eyed looks upon their faces. "Jet lag?"

"Nnmph." Sitting at the table and resting her forehead upon it, Becka muttered, "You crazy rich people and globetrotting."

"I had espresso," Happy replied, setting down what seemed to be black coffee by her hand. "Hot cocoa with coffee in it."

"You're an angel," Rebeckah breathed in awe, moving her head upwards to breathe in the scent of coffee and expensive hot cocoa. She felt a heavy head rest upon her shoulder as Tony sat beside her with a yawn. "An' you woke me up last night."

"Sorry, Beckers," Tony replied, stroking her hair as she laid her head back down upon crossed arms.

Natalie sat down in one of the seats, incredulous. "What should I do about the meetings that we have to be at?" She hadn't known that _this_ is how they operated! It was almost as if they didn't care about their executives and shareholders!

"Postpone them," Tony and Pepper chorused before meeting each other's gaze and grinning. Tony got his cup of black coffee. "How late are we?"

"Three hours," Happy replied, putting down the three local newspapers while Pepper pulled up the English news feeds about what had happened the day before on the race circuit. "But we figured that you needed the extra rest, and I had persuaded Pepper to stay in bed a little longer."

"Not gonna ask how," Becka muttered, raising her head off of the table and blowing on the hot drink by her hand before carefully taking a sip, not wanting to burn her tongue. Even though it was early morning and she was not known to be an early riser, it was easy to see that both Tony and Becka's minds were far, far away.

* * *

Natalie was sulking in the forward cabin, Tony was skulking around the kitchen, Happy hated flying and was in a drugged haven of sleep in the forward cabin as well, and Becka was standing in the cockpit, watching the pilots fly. Pepper sighed. Nobody wanted to be around anyone else, but when you're in a smallish private jet, you really can't get away from each other.

She was sitting in a chair, peering thoughtlessly out the window. If Becka hadn't claimed the cockpit after takeoff, Pepper would have loved to hide up there with the pilots. They knew when silence was necessary. However, she was still getting silence, thanks to the lack of company in the aft cabin.

A thought bubbled to the surface, no matter how much she tried to squelch it down. She was still aching from yesterday, and her mind and heart were still raw from the near-death experience. There was something to be said about finding peace and quiet again after having chaos coming to stamp its way in through one's life. No. She needed to have some noise to help block her thoughts off. Otherwise . . .

She didn't want to think about it.

Leaning forward and finding the clicker for the satellite TV, Pepper turned it on and left it on the first channel that came up. Of course, the subject was yesterday's fiasco, and who was talking upon it? Senator Stern, who had led the bar against Tony in the hearing. Sighing at the fact that the man couldn't speak in anything above a monotone, not to mention the fact that the man was speaking about how the type of suit that Tony wore, operated, and was augmented by was now truly elsewhere in the world, Pepper wondered how her life had come to this point.

She was now, more so than ever, fully responsible for Tony Stark and his actions.

"Mute." Tony walked around Pepper's chair, setting down a covered plate and a set of silverware. He didn't want to deal with the small bits of actual truth that resided within Stern's snarlfests. He'd get the low-down from Jarvis when he returned to Malibu upon the important parts. So, he played it flippantly. "The guy should be giving me a medal."

Pepper wasn't impressed. Her back and neck hurt from being jostled about in the car, but she was thankful that was the least of her injuries. But she still wasn't very happy with the way that their trip to Monaco had fallen out. It wasn't purely Tony's fault, but there were behaviors that he exhibited that would make her life very hard if they continued. "What's that."

"This? This, uh, is your in-flight meal." He didn't expect that question from his former-assistant, now-boss.

"Did you just _make_ that?"

"Yeah. Where do you think that I've been for the last three hours?"

"Sulking in the kitchen because we've taken up the other areas of the cabin."

"Ouch. Thanks for your . . . your vote of confidence." Tony turned to look out the window, unable to look at the woman who had made his life happen in the last several years and knew him better than Becka did.

Was this how Tony had felt when he had come close to death in Afghanistan? Needing to know answers and needing to have people level with him? Maybe that was the true sobering moment of his life, and thankfully, the two people who had been around him in that time had been extremely healthy for his sanity, and had just the kind of willful personality that would continue to make sure that Tony wouldn't stay stagnant even past that point of sobriety.

"Tony . . . what aren't you telling me?"

_I'm dying, and I can't do a damn thing about it._ "I don't want to go home. At all." And even that was more than he wanted to say. He went off on a tangent that he knew, somehow, Pepper wouldn't agree to, and yet . . . it was her final word on the situation that had him retreating to the kitchen.

"Not all of us run on batteries."

Opening the door between the two cabins, Becka just looked at Pepper with the same sort of dead eyes that Tony sported. Part of it was tiredness, part of it was worry that plagued the mind even through sleep, and part of it was a pain so deep that it couldn't be put into words.

"Are you going home again?" were the first words out of Pepper's mouth before she could stop herself from saying something stupid in her aching exhaustion. She, of all people, knew that Tony would be eavesdropping, and to overhear _that_ . . .

Shaking her head, the younger woman sighed. "No. Tony needs me here. I don't know why he's been the way he has, but I know that if I were to leave, nothing would be fixed or dealt with. He hasn't asked me outright, but I'm going to stay in Malibu." Sitting down in the chair that Tony had vacated, Rebeckah looked at the plate of food left behind. "Did he make that?"

"Yes."

"He did something serious if he's trying to apologize to you with food."

In reply, Pepper silently indicated the next cabin up . . . and the other woman in there, lowering her voice to just above the hum of the engines. "Don't tell me that you're not angry at his decision about bringing her into the team."

"I'm not."

"You're lying."

Shaking her head and popping her knuckles in a stress-relieving habit, Becka sighed. "I'm really not angry or frustrated about her. She has skills that I sorely lack, and that you no longer can help me learn with the diligence that you've shown so far. You have all-new responsibilities that require your full attention. I know that if you were to spare the time for trying to help me catch up to speed, your work and what is now _your_ company will suffer."

"Well, one of those responsibilities may just be nailing your fiancé and my star employee to the floor and hope that he doesn't do something exceedingly stupid for once."

Nodding and sighing, the younger woman replied, "Tony will do what he needs to do, and neither of us will ever be able to always persuade him to rethink some of his actions. I'll stand with him, and, unless he does something excessively moronic, I'll be standing with him until the end."

_You're a brave woman . . . and that end might happen all too soon,_ Tony Stark thought as he leaned against the bulkhead, having listened to that conversation. He didn't deserve her, he really didn't. Walking as silently as possible back to the kitchen, the millionaire looked for something easier to make, and something that his bride-to-be would enjoy.


	8. Chapter 7

When A Bright Idea Dims  
By Sinead

_**Author's Note:**__ So. Now we're at the halfway point. This is a movie that I've liked a lot more than the previous one, which is saying a LOT, merely because we can really get deeper into Tony's mind. The first movie really set the stage for what would become a tangled web of life, and I'm doing what I can to piece together what I want to happen with what has happened within the movie itself._

_But the most important thing that I, and indeed, many other authors, have to remember is that writing fanfiction has to be as fun for us to write as it is for you to read. I want to thank you for your views and reviews! They really mean a lot to me, and I'm glad that you're enjoying this! I have up to Chapter 9 completed, and I'm working on Chapter 10 right now. I kinda sorta wandered into "holy crap, let's write!" mode last night, and I'm not sure how that happened, but I ran with it! Enjoy!_

_Also, it looks like the site is messing with some of my formatting, and I just noticed this now. Scene breaks and the symbols that I use for them aren't being accepted anymore. That's wonderful. (/sarcasm) I'm sorry if things in this story look a bit wonky and not divided right between scenes. I'll go back and fix them tomorrow._

Chapter Seven

Thankfully, the jet could touch down in a private airstrip and didn't attract the attention of the media. Once they were in the mansion, however, the phones began to ring off of the hook. Pepper and Natalie started to answer them to begin trying to stem the flow of the political-media tsunami. Tony slunk into the basement with a kiss to Becka's cheek, knowing that he had to replace another core soon by the way that his body reacted sluggishly.

Watching him walk down the stairs and into his work-room, the young woman remained at the top of the stairs in a thoughtful silence before taking herself to the kitchen and preparing tea and coffee. The women on the phones would need it, and she would need the calming presence of a hot cup between her hands.

"Jarvis."

"It is good to see you again, Miss Fahey," The AI replied in his soothing, almost-emotionless voice. "How are you faring from your trip? I've noted that it had taken a rather rough turn for the worse." Along with his words, Jarvis displayed the viral-videos of the battle upon the racecourse upon the night-darkened windows.

"I'll be fine, thank you," she replied, touched by the attentive nature of the AI. There was much to be said about how much of Tony's child the program was, and it often revealed things to her about her fiancé that would have otherwise remained a mystery. The depth of his caring for her, for instance, was often mirrored by Jarvis' queries. "Something is bothering me, though."

"How may I be of assistance?"

"I need you to tell me what exactly is going on with Tony. You know him best."

The program was silent for a moment. "I'm not sure that I understand what you are trying to ask of me."

"What's wrong with Tony?"

"There are many answers that I may reply with, but what part of him are you most concerned about? Surely you are privy to the matters of his heart."

"No, I mean physically."

"He is not performing to your needs?"

Snorting, Becka glared at the panel that Jarvis used as a scanner for the room. Of all those who knew the couple, Jarvis could tell the best that neither were having sex. "Funny. Really. The fact that you're being this evasive means that you have been told directly by Tony not to reveal any information regarding his physical health."

Silence.

"Does the same order stand for his mental health?"

"No."

Well, that was one question answered. Something was physically wrong with Tony, and the fact that he wasn't telling her was enough cause for tense concern that bordered on panic. "Pity, because I can see that most of his actions are due to desperation." She waited for the water for her tea to boil and the coffee to finish percolating.

There was another silence . . . no, a pause! "I would have to agree with you upon that theory."

Stilling herself and her thoughts, the young woman stared out of a blank window, waiting for her mind to make the connections. There was something that Jarvis had let slip, something important. The machine had made a decision against his maker, and already had said too much. It was almost-impossible that this would ever happen.

"Becka."

Startled out of her thoughts by the stern-yet-warm voice, Rebecka turned to stare at none other than Colonel James Rhodes. "Rhodey! Been too long!"

She opened her arms in a silent plea for an embrace, and the man who had become an older brother to her obligingly wrapped the young woman up within his arms. Releasing her, smiling softly, the man murmured, "I saw Tony and Pepper at the hearing, but I knew that you wouldn't be there."

"Yeah. I don't like lawyers or their kind." She shrugged and shook her head. "I particularly hate politicians."

"Politicians make me sick," came the low mutter, "no matter which country that they're from."

"So . . . why are you here?"

Drawing in a deep breath, Rhodey answered, "I need to talk with Tony. He's been this side of AWOL for the last few weeks, and I can't figure out why."

Shaking her head to indicate that she didn't know why either, Rebeckah replied, "He hasn't been telling us any more than he's been telling you, for all that we're trying our hardest to read his mind and motions."

Rhodey sighed and leaned against the counter, rubbing at his face. "There's so much going on, and I don't know where to look anymore, or who to point a finger at to show that they're doing the wrong thing, or even if anyone _is_ doing the wrong thing. It's like I'm sitting on my ass and watching a pile of explosives, seeing three fuses all leading in to the center, but unable to tell who lit which fuse, and if any of the fuses even _go_ to a bomb."

"I know one pile of ordinance that you won't have to worry about." Jerking her chin towards the living room, the survivor muttered, "Pepper hates Natalie. Natalie is working around that to assist everyone in the house and their particular needs; personal assistant for Tony, Pepper's on-call assistant, and my tutor on how to deal with certain situations regarding the public and public appearances."

"Fun. What else?"

Seeing that Rhodey was in the same put-the-puzzle-together mode that she was, Rebeckah continued her assessment of the multiple situations. "Senator Stern just wants to show that he's not going to be one-upped by Tony, and is looking to show his victory over this as a way to make sure that his star shines brightly in the eye of the American public."  
"Said like a true political analyst."

"I hate politics, but the way that some politicians act is just a glorified high school kid who is trying to out-drama and out-maneuver the person they perceive as their enemy. Moving on." Touching a third finger onto the counter, she continued, "Tony's playing 'hide the truth' about something and that's causing tension between everyone, which is why you're here."

Nodding his assent of her assessment, Rhodey indicated that she continue on.

"The whole 'Russian terrorist is blown up in jail' thing smacks of a cover-up for something. It's too clean of an ending."

"Woah, woah, now."

"I'm serious," she replied, leaning forward and looking up at the Air Force man. "Trust me, I know it sounds like a conspiracy, but sometimes, conspiracies are actually true. Rare, but it happens."

Rhodey didn't like that last bit, but knew that Rebecka had seen some tough times. He didn't like to think about last year, and the horrors that the young woman had personally encountered. She never acted as if she had been through anything life-altering, which had worried him for a long while until he found out that she had been going to talk with a specialist. He had thought that she was just bottling it up and denying things had happened, when in fact, it seemed that she had excellent acting skills when around people that didn't know most of the story.

In fact, he had been there when she had come to another breaking point just over three months ago, and Tony had been on a mission. Pepper and Happy couldn't calm her down over the phone or get her to open the apartment door. Only Rhodes had managed to not only get her to open the door, but had calmed her down and then promised to stay with her and guard the apartment until Tony returned. There were deep moments of insecurity where she felt inconsolably vulnerable and unable to defend or protect herself, which he knew stemmed from Obadiah Stane's attack. It was why he had suggested that she take up martial arts, as well as helping her through getting a gun license. Since those moments of receiving her first handgun and her first advancement of a belt in martial arts, as well as in tandem with the help of a therapist, he had seen her strength move from being a façade to the genuine thing.

The Air Force man had it on Tony's word that she would still wake up in the middle of the night in tears, calling him to make sure that he was still alive. But it was what Tony didn't say about those calls that made Rhodey remember that horrific night that they had lost the unborn Stark heir . . .

He sighed and gathered the young woman into his arms again, resting his chin upon her head and rocking back and forth, his voice quiet, going back into the soothing tones that happened to be taken up the instant that he felt that a family member was beginning to become distressed. "He doesn't remember dates well."

"I know. I don't want to remind him."

"Yeah. He's fragile right now."

"Yeah."

Drawing in a deep breath, hearing the coffee pot signal that the brew was finished, Rhodey sat the young woman down while he moved to make coffee and tea for the current inhabitants of the house. "Been ten months, almost eleven, since you came back home."

"Yeah." She really didn't want to remember the passage of time. It was starting to hurt the closer the one-year mark was coming.

"Becka, you know that if you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here, right?" He turned from pouring the coffee, making sure to catch her eye-contact. "And everything would be off the record, never to be seen in any military report or anything."

Smiling at how he had to put a disclaimer on that statement, the young woman nodded. "I know."

Knowing that not much else could be said, Rhodey smiled and brought a tray of coffee, sugar, and milk out to the ladies, placing it between them. He had made sure that there would be two spoons, keeping an eye on the details. Getting dual looks of appreciation, he returned to the kitchen to see Becka making her tea and looking out over the darkened ocean again, lost in her thoughts. Smiling at her reflection and bringing his and Tony's coffee down the stairs and to the basement, Rhodey put his game face on. He had news that Tony wasn't going to like.

Never would he have assumed that he would receive news from Tony that _he_ wasn't going to like.

* * *

Natalie was watching Becka carefully as she assisted the young woman in preparing for Tony's birthday party. She liked what she saw, and would put a word in that this woman could be, and perhaps _would_ be, necessary to helping Tony achieve the puzzle of his heart. "You don't like that Tony's throwing this party."

"Not. At. All." Becka was trying to choose a dress from the many that had become part of her wardrobe. There was a hesitation as she moved them one-by-one from right to left, looking carefully at one here and pulling it aside, handing it to Natalie, then continuing on until she came up with three that could work for this venture. "I don't know who's coming, I don't know what's going to be happening, and he's been increasingly distant in the last few days."

. . . she didn't know what was happening with the miniaturized Arc reactor in Tony's chest? Natalie masked her shock with a light frown of concern. "Perhaps he wants to surprise you?"

"I sure hope not." Taking the dresses one-by-one and holding them up against herself while facing a mirror, the jean-clad middle-class woman narrowed the dresses from four to two, then looked at the two again. Right now, the style was to have a slim skirt that clung to the hips. Well, she'd been getting lifted lips from the adherents to "modern fashion" about how she was dressing in "strange" styles, so why stop now? Putting back the thin-skirted dress and putting the one that sported a broader skirt, one that flowed to just above her knees in a demure sweep. The dress was strapless, and was fit as if it had been made with her just in mind. Hanging it on the door, she looked at the massive shoe collection that Tony had insisted she splurge upon.

"Miss Fahey, may I be so bold as to offer an opinion?"

"Go right ahead," came the distracted reply, coupled with the minor irritation that came from the super-subservient attitude that Natalie would often put on.

"Do you think that he's acting out like this for attention, or that it's out of desperation?"

Pausing and turning a measuring glance to the woman, Rebeckah stalked closer. Despite Natalie's mastery of martial arts and espionage, she found herself beginning to feel intimidated, almost scared.

"Listen hard, and listen carefully, because I'm only going to say this once," Rebeckah said, her voice soft and smooth in her anger. Dark eyes flashing, she continued without a pause. "You have one chance, and one only, to tell me everything you know about Tony, why you're here, how you got so close to him even though you're just a simple paralegal, and what you're planning on doing now that you're this close to him." Taking a step closer until she was just out of striking range, she hissed, "And I want the _truth_. I _will_ know if you're lying to me."

The first thought that raced through Natalie's head was, _I'm so screwed._

The second one: _She could kick my ass in this mood._

The third? _Director Fury would love to have her on his team, and he's gonna kill me because I'm going to connect her to him._

Drawing in a deep breath, she dropped the façade. "Okay. You want the truth? We're worried that he's become too much of a liability for America and her interests. Furthermore, I can't tell you everything, but I can connect you with someone who can."

That seemed to shock Becka into a thoughtful moment of silence before she replied with, "And what are you going to do with Tony?"

"He's become our responsibility. Right now, he's in a bad place, and we need him to get his act together. You, more than anyone, know that he's coming apart at the seams, and while he thinks he has everything together, he really is moments away from death." Dramatic, but it would get the point across.

Straightening her back, Becka processed this news, coupled with Tony's strange behavior, and the hints she had received from Jarvis. Nodding, things added up. "It's the palladium in his chest."

Relieved that she didn't have to say that bit, Natalie nodded. "Yes."

"It's killing him."

"Yes."

"Does Pepper know?"

"Not that I know of."

"Then keep it that way. Whatever you're manipulating so that he survives, I want in on it."

Wincing, the agent replied, "He may not forgive you."

Shaking her head and reaching for a pair of heels that were comfortable and yet sleek, Becka straightened and looked squarely into Natalie's eyes. "You don't understand the relationship he and I share. Nor do you understand the circumstances that forged our bond. If he doesn't forgive me, that doesn't matter."

Natalie found herself almost shrinking from the ferocity that was to be found on Becka's face. It was as if she had uncaged a hungry tigress, and she was the closest source of meat.

"Tony's life is what matters. You get your boss on the line and tell him that whatever he's planning, get it done fast. I'll help."

"I think that I may have blundered."

There was silence on the other end of the line, a clear indication of Fury's, well, fury.

"Becka knows. She cornered me. I couldn't get out of the conversation."

"Oh. So long as it's not Tony or Potts. Rebeckah could well be the only mitigating factor that could work in our favor. You said there's a party tonight?"

"Yes. That's the other half of my blunder. I thought that I could steer Tony into trying to slip his way out of the party by insinuating that he should do whatever he wanted with whomever he wanted to do it with . . ."

"Which would have brought Becka into the playing field nicely, as they're engaged and seducing one or the other would have removed him from the location and into a place where we could approach him."

"Right. And he didn't take it the way I thought he would."

Fury paused on the other side before emitting an eloquent, "Oh?"

Looking carefully through a doorway at the party in full swing and an infuriated and close-to-murderous Rebeckah glaring death at her armored and drunk-as-shit fiancé, Natalie whispered, "This is going to become a problem. A big one."


	9. Chapter 8

When A Bright Idea Dims

By Sinead

_**Author's Note:**__ Ready for the fireworks?_

_I decided to get this chapter up for you as a sort of apology for making you wait for the updates a while back, as well as for having a confusing setup with no breaks or indications of breaks between the scenes. So now, here's the third chapter in a week for your entertainment. I'm writing Chapter 11 and editing chapters 8 & 9. For whatever reason, I've just had the inspiration to finish this story and get it written, which is no bad thing. I hope that it'll be finished within the next two months at the latest._

_Thank you for all your views and reviews!_

Chapter Eight

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

Rhodey was facing two such women. Pepper had been openly mocked by a drunken Tony, and Becka had been mocked merely by Tony being completely and utterly inebriated at a party that she had helped him plan with his promise that he wouldn't have more than two celebratory drinks so that they could enjoy the revelry until the last drunk socialite had been carted off.

But at least he hadn't mentioned anything regarding the private details of the year before.

She was aware of Rhodey walking in and standing beside herself and Pepper, then Pepper going to try to shut down the party, Tony sniping Pep down, and Rhodey disappearing. Looking to her right, she caught Natalie's gaze as the other woman put the phone away. As Pepper moved off to fume in silence elsewhere, Becka glided over to the kitchen and snarled, "What the hell happened?"

"I thought that he was going to go along with the suggestion that he should be with you, but apparently—"

"Ladies and gentlemen, the most beautiful woman in the world . . . my fiancé, Rebeckah almost-Stark."

Startled by her name over the speakers, frozen for but a moment, Becka sent her mind into a place where she could deal with him later, once he was sober. Demands would be made, and come hell or high water, Tony would either hold to his promises, or he would have to find someone else. She smiled as she turned gracefully, leaving Natalie to her own devices as she walked more into the room's view. Tony was singing her praises, just gushing to the crowd of how influential she had been in his life, and how he didn't want to live his life without her.

Half of the crowd was melting in the adoration, the other half were getting bored.

And if Tony knew how to do something, it was how to rile up a crowd. Someone began moving a bottle back and forth, as if tempting him. He was watching it while finishing his speech in honor of her, which she really was sure he meant to say while _sober_. He finished his sentence, then continued to watch the bottle wave back and forth just that bit more while making a few comments and a complete fool out of himself.

This . . . was not good.

The bottle was tossed, and Tony, being the showman that he was, couldn't resist blasting it into a million pieces using his repulsors.

Looking around, seeing Rhodes' face fall into his battle-ready expression, knowing that look from when he brought her to the hospital, Becka backed her way into the kitchen, seemingly already forgotten by the man she may or may not marry, depending upon his apology and actions in the near future. Turning around, she found herself facing Natalie again, but this time, the woman's face meant business. She handed her a card. "Change and get out of here. Meet us by this address."

"I'll change at my apartment, and I know that you're fully aware where I live. When will I meet you there?" She read the card, glad that she had driven to the Stark residence earlier this evening.

"Three hours at the latest unless we come to you before then." Her heart moving with compassion for the woman, Natalie put her hand upon her shoulder. "You're not alone in this. You have Pepper, Happy and Rhodey, and you have the support of the foundation that I'm employed by. Now you need to leave while this situation is brought under control."

Nodding, silently walking down into the lab/workshop, Rebeckah found herself staring at another man in a suit. "R-Rhodey?"

"I'm shutting this down. Don't stop me."

"I'm not going to stop you," she replied, walking past him and to her car, having left her purse where it wouldn't be stolen or rifled through: down here, protected by Jarvis. "But I'm going to require one thing of you."

Hearing her tone, turning to look at her after getting a brief walkthrough by Jarvis of how to use the suit, Rhodey made eye-contact over the roof of the Mustang convertible as she opened the door. She meant business. "Leave enough of him behind for me to finish off."

"Where are you going?"

"To my apartment, then out. I need to take a drive. I have my cell with me if you need to contact me. It's programmed into the system powering your suit."

Nodding, Rhodey turned away. Hearing the formidable Saleen engine start, he looked upwards. Time to crash the party.

* * *

Walking out of her shower wrapped in only a towel, it shocked her only slightly when Becka saw Natalie and an unknown man waiting for her. Sparing them only a blank look, she walked into her bedroom with a muttered, "Be right out."

"Wear something comfortable," Natalie said briskly. "Something that you can work on mechanics in and not worry about getting dirty."

"What are you planning on having me do?" she replied through the door, cursing how fabric and damp skin would inevitably always find a way to make dressing difficult.

"We need you to help us get Tony into a state of mind."

"What state of mind?" Now for the jeans . . . ones that fit loosely, comfortably, and were her usual grease- and oil-stained jeans that she would wear when working on the cars with Tony. Pulling an old, friendly t-shirt over her head, she grabbed a pair of comfortable socks and opened her closet door to look for some shoes or her boots . . .

Her boots.

Picking up the pair that rested behind all the rest of her shoes, out of sight but never out of mind, Becka opened the bedroom door and looked at the duo watching her as she moved closer.

The man spoke. "We need him to work. Because without him working, he's not going to die. He'll figure out what needs to be done to keep himself alive."

It all became blindingly clear. "You want to recreate the isolation that we had been in while we were prisoners in Afghanistan."

"That's putting it bluntly, but that's essentially what we're going for." The tall bald man nodded. "My name's Nick Fury, Director of SHIELD. Natasha Romanoff is one of our agents, and she's been imbedded in Stark Industries for the last six months."

"So why are you here, and not taking care of the party on the other side of Malibu?" Sitting on her couch to put on the boots she had retrieved from her room, Becka didn't even have to look down to lace them up over the expensive but worth-the-money hiking socks. They would breathe very well in the Malibu weather under the worn and well-used army surplus combat boots that she'd used for many years.

"Because your friend from the Air Force already shut it down and flew off, literally. Tony is aware, but hasn't moved in fifteen minutes, and we'll be tracking all his movements once he starts moving again. He's moved his extremities, so he's not broken, possibly just thinking or trying to sober up a little." He shoved his hands into his pockets, watching the way that this young woman moved. There was a purpose in each movement, a weighted manner that indicated that she thought on very deep levels. "You have a problem with that?"

She took her time in answering, which was another indicator to Fury that they had done right by trying to ask for her help. "No, I don't have a problem with this. It's something that was bound to happen sooner or later."

"You're mad at him?"

Standing and shoving her hands into her back pockets of the jeans, Becka sighed and measured her emotions. "No, I'm more disappointed by his actions and his decisions rather than angry. Being angry with him will get neither of us anywhere, and it won't help him live. Disappointment is a better motivator. I still love him, and I want him to be alive, no matter the personal cost."

Fury wondered if she was going to sing the same tune once she saw what became of Casa Stark.

* * *

"I'm going to kill him. Slowly."

Agent Coulson stared at the young woman, nonplussed at her snarl as she slammed the Mustang's door, shoved keys into her pocket, and walked past the police tape and past him. He turned and watched her take in the damage before pulling her cell phone out and calling someone.

"Hey. It's me. . . . I'm fine, please don't worry. I'm looking at the damage to the house right now . . . Right. . . . Right. . . . All right, well, I just wanted to reassure you that I was fine after everything went down last night. I'll see you soon." Turning her phone off and shoving it into her back-right pocket, she continue to take in the view. "Agent Coulson."

"Yes, Miss Fahey?"

"Just call me Becka, please. We've been through this before. 'Miss Fahey' makes me sound like I'm some sort of stuffy white-lace Irishwoman." Not waiting for him to reply, she continued and began walking around part of the driveway to see if any more damage was visible from the outside. "I was told that you're going to be playing babysitter by Director Fury."

"I am."

"So. He said I can ask you myself why I believe that any of this will work and you'll be able to help Tony focus on what he has to do." Turning her formidable glare upon him, she waited for his answer.

Coulson, having met her once before while she had been calm and exhausted, hadn't known how ferocious she truly was when riled, nor was he aware of the full force of personality that emanated from her gaze when she was completely awake. Those details had been left out of the brief phone call he had received in regards to her current state of mind when Fury was off following Tony's movements. It was almost enough to crack his calm exterior. If this was her at an intense moment, he _really_ didn't want to have her angry at him. Ever. So, taking a deep breath, he told her what he was going to do to ensure that Mr Stark remained upon the premises.

And he was relieved when she laughed and moved her car out of sight, walking into the house with a snicker and a grin.

He let himself smile as he resumed his post. No wonder Tony had been on his best behavior. This woman was an absolute gem, and when she wasn't mad, she seemed like she would be a pretty easy person to be around. Coulson was reassured at this revelation, as he hadn't wanted to bring a civilian into the mix of things.

But this woman? She was close enough to being "one of them" thanks to some twist of fate that he would have her full cooperation while they took care of this problem.

He heard her yelling curses as she found the kitchen, and his smile stretched into a smirk.

Yes, she was going to be quite useful indeed.

* * *

Rebeckah was there to watch Tony fly in from his ruined bedroom. She heard Coulson greet Natalie/Natasha and Director Fury before asking Jarvis, "Is everything ready?"

"Yes."

"Thank you for taking my call this morning."

"In light of the current situation, it seemed to be the wisest action to follow whatever lead you were taking, as Mr Stark had showcased—"

"I know, Jarvis, I'm aware. And I know that you've been worried. We're going to make this right again, and we'll need your help this time."

"I'm not a child and I don't need to be reassured. My logic and calculations—"

"Jarvis," Rebeckah said with a smile as she walked out of the room, skirting the hole in the floor carefully, "you're still a little one to me, despite your intellect and insight. We're going to take care of all this."

By the time she was standing in the far doorway of the kitchen, Fury was already in a chair, watching the water. "This is quite the crib. I like the open design, but it won't meet health code standards."

"I'm already redesigning it," she replied, smiling as he turned to look at her with a raised eyebrow. "How'd he take it?"

"I didn't tell him the details, but he's aware that it's going to be an interesting run."

"Good. Did the lithium dioxide do the trick as you said it would?"

"Yes." He was about to say more when Becka ducked back into the second doorway, just in time to not be seen by Tony as he walked into the ruined space and sat down with a sigh, running his hands through his hair and looking as if he had several weights settled upon his shoulders. So Fury went right into the lecture. "That thing in your chest is based off of unfinished technology."

Watching from the shadowed sidelines, the young woman gauged Tony's reaction of denial before he replied, "No, it was finished. It hadn't been particularly effective until I miniaturized it and put it into my chest."

"No," Fury replied in the same tones that a teacher would use to gently correct a misinformed student. "Howard said that the arc reactor was a stepping stone to something greater. He was going to kick off an energy race that was going to dwarf the arms race. He was onto something big, something _so_ big that it was going to make the nuclear reactor look like a triple-A battery."

"Just him?" Tony asked as he began to pour himself some water. He had moved in such a way that his face was hidden from view, but his voice was sharp, accusatory. "Or was Anton Venko in on this, too."

Fury didn't rise to the bait, and continued on in his same path of informing the uninformed. "Anton Venko is the other side of that coin. Anton saw it as a way to get rich. When your father found out about that, he had him deported. When the Russians found out that he couldn't deliver, they shipped his ass off to Siberia and he spent the next twenty years in a vodka-fueled rage. Not quite the environment you wanna raise a kid in. The son you had the misfortune of crossing paths with in Monaco."

Tony changed the subject as the mention of Anton Venko's son. The words Ivan had said echoed in his mind. "You told me I hadn't tried everything. What do you mean, I haven't tried everything? What haven't I tried?"

Fury looked away, still relaxed and lounging in the deck chair. "He said that you were the only one with the means and the knowledge to finish what he started."

"He said that." Tony didn't sound like he believed that, and Becka didn't blame him. She knew just a fraction of the fractured relationship Tony had experienced with his father as a boy.

"Mm-hm. Are you that guy?" Sitting up and leaning forward, his entire movements and posture humming with intensity, Fury all but demanded, "Hm? Are you? 'Cause if you are . . . _you_ can solve the riddle of your heart."

Silence met the statement, and the eavesdropper wished that she could see the expression upon Tony's face. She felt like she was missing a full half of the conversation because she couldn't read his expressions.

When he shook his head and spoke, however, she realized that she had underestimated and in her err, forgotten about the emotion that he always carried in his voice. "I dunno where you're getting your information from, but uh, he wasn't my biggest fan."

And Fury wasn't about to take a pity-party Stark. "What d'you remember about your dad, huh?"

Tony's words and sentences ran together when he responded. "He was cold, he was calculating, he never told me he loved me, he never even told me he _liked_ me. So it's a little _tough_ for me to digest when you're telling me he said the whole future was riding on me and he's passing it down. I don't _get_ that." Settling back, he half-muttered, "We're talking about a guy whose happiest day was when he shipped me off to boarding school."

Wincing, but glad that she could see Fury's face as he witnessed the miniscule-meltdown from the hung-over genius, Becky watched the conversation continue to play out. Fury's face was a study of calm denial, and this time, in the good way. It was as if he was stating a fact. "That's not true."

"Well, clearly you know my dad better than I did." Tony replied snarkily.

Aaand Fury was done with the conversation, not even baited. "As a matter of fact, I did. He was one of the founding members of SHIELD."

"Wait, what?"

Standing to his feet and putting his empty cup down, Director Fury said, "I've got a two-o-clock."

Smiling and turning away to get to her place, Becky knew what was going to happen next. Fury would leave, Tony would try to beg for a little leniency, and would get shut down by the blunt and unyielding retort from Agent Coulson in regards to Tony trying to weave his way around the rules.

"I've been authorized by Director Fury to use any means necessary to keep you on the premises. If you attempt to leave, or play any games, I will taze you and watch Super-Nanny while you drool into the carpet."

And as she stood in the middle of the dark and locked-down workroom to await Tony's arrival, Becka knew that she would be saying something similar if he asked for special favors or dispensation.

When Tony made it back down the stairs and ordered the lights on, he looked up at seeing the woman of his dreams standing in the middle of his garage, surrounded by his cars and by Jarvis's holographic display depicting the arc reactor in his chest and the current damage it was doing to his body compared to earlier models and charts depicting the palladium levels in his blood and his blood toxicity over the last several weeks. His face fell and he stared in disbelief, not expecting to see this woman for another two days at the _very_ least, and certainly not standing amid the evidence that proved he hadn't been telling her all of the truth.

"You . . ."


	10. Chapter 9

When A Bright Idea Dims

By Sinead

_**Author's Note:**__ Combining book and movie forms again because I like the pictures it makes in my head. You'll know it when you see it. Last chapter for a while as I catch up and write more. Last weekend was the final weekend for the renaissance faire, and it was a doozie on the emotional level since we've spent three months together and the season just closed. There will be more chapters within two to three weeks, but I probably won't be able to update four chapters in one week like I had done last week. This was a special for everyone who has been patient. Many thanks! And Sugar Queen, you know who you are, now stop whining for more chapters before I come down there and show you WHY this story is a challenge to write. XD_

Chapter Nine

"You . . ." was all that Tony got out before he was cut off, his tone one of both awe and trepidation.

"I'm here for the same reason as those people upstairs." Walking closer, boots making a satisfying thud each time she stepped closer to Tony, Becka kept her face carefully neutral. "But I have a more personal reason for getting you back to work."

"O-oh?" he stammered, his face still disconcertingly pale from shock. This was the _one_ person he hadn't expected to see after his birthday-bender.

"If you die now, I won't have the satisfaction of killing you myself for embarrassing me at your damn birthday party, ruining the house, and fighting your best friend and closest ally, quite possibly crumbling any support he may have given you. Oh, and last but not least, getting _completely_ shit-faced even though you promised me that you wouldn't be more than buzzed at your celebration. Or how about the fact that _you've been dying_ and haven't said anything at all about it, even though we promised each other that we'd be honest in all situations no matter the reasons? Thanks for keeping me in the loop, by the way." Crossing her arms over her chest in furious indignation and hurt, Becka stared the man down.

Swallowing, color starting to return to his cheeks and face, Tony replied very softly, his hands going out to either side as he whispered, "I am so, so very sorry. My only excuse is that I thought I was going to die, and I still don't know if I'm going to live much longer."

"So that gives you reason to act like a complete fool? That gives you permission to _hurt_ me and not keep to your promises?"

He winced. "No."

"Why did you feel that you couldn't tell me?" she demanded, feeling her heart and gut clench as she tried to fight back the tears.

"I didn't want you to worry about something that I haven't been able to find a solution for and wouldn't be able to find a solution for in time to save my life," he replied, watching her, trying to find out if he should step forward and embrace her, or to stand back and give her the space she may need. "I didn't want you to be panicking over me."

"You're _worth_ panicking over, Anthony Edward Stark, and damn it all, you should have told me! You said you wanted to marry me, and yet you didn't trust me with this?" Sweeping her arm back to point to the screens still hovering in the cleared space of his lab, she felt the first tears fall. "You couldn't even tell me that you were _dying_?"

"I'm-I'm sorry." Pressing his lips together briefly, he whispered, "I wanted to just do things quietly and prepare everything for you to take over my estate."

"Oh, was that all?" came the angry, tear-laced snarl.  
"No, of course that's not all!" Tony snapped back, finally at a breaking point himself. "I was preparing everything that you could also be able to still have our children and be able to live comfortably, _luxuriously_ for the rest of your lives without having to worry about finances or college funds!"

Silence fell between the two, and both deflated slowly. Striding the two steps between them, Tony embraced his lady and held her as she sobbed, holding onto his shoulders for support. He kissed her forehead, resting a stubbly cheek against it and closing his eyes. "I don't like people worrying over me. I'm still not used to someone _caring_ enough to be in my face concerned for my benefit. I just . . . I'm so sorry. I'm sorry for everything."

She shook her head against his chest, drawing in deep breaths to calm herself. "Y-you have work to do."

"It can wait for a few moments," he murmured, tipping her chin up and wiping her cheeks clear of the tears before kissing her nose. "I'll figure something out. I have a little more time."

"I heard the conversation between you and Fury. I know you'll figure it out." She sighed, still trying to calm her heart. He had even planned for their children, even if he wasn't going to be around?

Hearing his amused huff, Becka opened her eyes to see him smiling. "Yeah. Fine." Leaning down, he kissed her soundly, hoping to try to reassure her that he still was there, still alive for even a little longer.

When they separated, she murmured, "So . . . you froze some of your own stuff, huh?"

"Yeah, shut up. Like it wasn't already embarrassing enough."

"So?"

"So in case whatever I figure out sterilizes me, I know that the place I'm at now, I'm still viable. So it stays where it is as a just-in-case. And it's completely secure. Nobody will steal anything." Smiling, Tony nosed her cheek and sighed, face falling again. "I'm so—"

"I forgive you." Blue eyes still dark with emotions, the woman reached up to brush her hand through his hair. "And if you make it through this, we can have longer talks later. But it's time to get to work, hun."

"Okay," he replied, stealing a kiss before smiling and looking at his consoles. "So when did you crack, Jarvis?"

"That is classified information, password-protected by Miss Fahey."

"Ooh, snippy today."

"When you are back to yourself, sir, I will happily reinstate my subroutines on being polite and courteous."

Eyebrows shooting up, he asked, "Who disabled those?"  
"Miss Fahey. Also a password-protected session."

"Right. Care to keep turning my own creations against me?"

"I couldn't crack You, Dummy," she replied, smirking as he rolled his eyes and kissed her once more before getting a move-on again.

IM

Tony went through the crate of his father's belongings like a whirlwind, not caring were things landed. Becka, however, moved around him, settling blueprints upon a table and pinning it down with the old film canisters, folders, papers, and pictures. She took the time to examine the faces of those who were in the pictures before placing them down. Just as she was about to come to him and see what he was up to, he made a small sound of satisfaction while staring down at the canister in his hands.

Starting to look up, Tony's gaze fell upon Becka's boots and he froze. "Those boots . . ."

Not moving, the woman nodded once, her voice low and quiet. "Yeah. I kept them."

"I didn't think that you would."

She walked closer and knelt before the sitting man, her face open for him to read. "I need to be in the mindset of helping you keep alive, too. Wearing something from Afghanistan reminds me that you have a job to finished and a deadline to beat."

In the dim lighting of the workshop, Tony nodded as he watched the woman he loved as she moved. Even though this wasn't a time for sex, the giddiness that came from realizing that he was going to live made him want to put everything on hold and seduce her. "All right. Found something that might work. Hold this, see if you can find any notes or notebooks in there while I go find a projector." He moved off, completely in a productive mode.

Rummaging carefully through the crate, she found a full and an unfinished notebook, both with handwritten notes within them. Grabbing both, putting them upon a chair that she knew he would use, she followed the sound of Tony's grumbles as he looked for the projector. She came up behind him, and he pointed to his left, still pushing boxes aside. "Grab that and set it up for me, willya?"

"Got it."

Picking up the screen and the stand, she walked off, hearing Tony hiss a curse and call after her, "Please and thank you! Sorry!"

"Shut up and find that projector!" she replied, grinning.

Hearing his soft half-barked laugh, she moved to set the screen up just as Natasha came down the stairs and entered the workshop. "Tony? Medication!"

Tony walked out from the storage room with a projector, setting it up upon a rolling cart that Rebeckah had just pushed over. "You know how much I hate needles?"

"That's not a concern to me."

"I really wish I could fire you."

"Tony, stop stalling and deal with it," Becka sighed as she moved past them and opened the door. "I'm going upstairs to see if you destroyed the coffee and tea, too."

"Uh . . ."

"Yeah. You can apologize for ruining _my_ kitchen if you make it past forty-eight hours."

She turned to walk through the door, but was stopped by her fiance's soft call. "Hey. I love you."

Pausing, turning, she smiled to her man and replied, "I love you too. But you will have to make everything up to me for putting me through these last two weeks."

"I know. I've got just the thing in mind, and it includes a tropical location."

"If it's sex, I don't need to be hearing this conversation," Natasha snarked, rolling her eyes. These two were absolutely unbelievable. She had been so sure that they would have split after last night, but no, they were actually _closer_ than before, if that was possible. She found herself regretting her prior decision to try to understand their relationship and what made it so concrete.

Natasha found herself on the receiving end of two rather irritated people's glares. Releasing a noise of disgust, Becka walked up the stairs and out of sight. Tony pulled the collar of his robe aside and turned his gaze away. "Thank you for ruining a reconciliation moment, Natasha. Hit me and get out of my sight _and_ my house until you have to administer another dose."

This was not going to be a good day for the agent.

IM

The lights were low, the projector running, playing the reel of film that contained all the original footage recorded for the original Stark Expo, from outtakes to final takes. Pausing in reading one of the journals that Howard had written within, reading his personal notes and thoughts about various technologies of his time and where he wished to see them go, what he wanted to see happen with the household tech in comparison to military tech. Frowning at seeing the little amount of tape left upon the spools, she stood and walked to stand behind the chair Tony was sitting in as he listened to the final bits of commentary and his frustrated father giving up and the film going white.

Tony looked back down at the notes in his hands and tossed his tablet to a table and the notebook containing his father's notes and equations into the crate. He ran his hands over his face in frustration before picking up his glass of coke with a sigh, drinking from it before staring into space and trying to piece together what Fury thought could be pieced together from this crate, from his father, the past.

He had a lot of loose ends, strings that were too short to be tied in the middle.

That was when a picture came back onto the screen of his father walking towards the table, away from the camera and leaning against the diorama, holding an infant up to his shoulder with ease and care. "Tony . . . this is the third night you've kept me up crying, so I thought that I'd give your mother a rest."

Becka moved closer to the screen, coming around the chair to stand beside Tony, her hand going to his shoulder, fingertips resting upon it lightly as they watched his father reach through the years to give his son a message. "You haven't mastered English yet, and you're too young to understand what I have to say even if you did speak English at three months of age, so I thought that I'd just put this on film for you."

They watched as he turned and moved out of the way of the camera to look at the model behind him. "I built this for you." Looking down at the wide-awake baby in his arms, he smiled and continued speaking to his son. "And someday, you'll realize that this means a whole lot more than some people's inventions." Moving so that he was looking back at the camera, Howard Stark spoke with great gravity. "It represents my life's work. I'm limited by the technology of my time, but one day, you'll figure this all out. And when you do, you will change the world. You'll do even bigger things with your life. I just know it. You're the future."

Tony felt his eyes prickling and his nose itch with unshed tears, but he couldn't and didn't look away. This was the side of his father that Fury was talking about and had known. He felt Becka's hand rest fully upon his shoulder, but he focused completely upon the screen and his father's words.

But he didn't expect what was said next.

"What is, and _always_ will be my greatest creation . . . is you. I love you."

The reel ended, but he continued to stare at the screen for a moment longer before looking down at his hands again, seeing spots of wet upon them just as Becka turned the machine off and sat on the arm of his chair, her arms around his shoulders. He rested his arm around her waist before drawing a deep breath and wiping his face with his free hand.

His dad left him a message and a lesson, and he had to figure it out.

But he needed that model of the expo.

Somehow, that was relevant.

Turning and kissing one of Becka's hands, he stood, silent, and then ran up the stairs, hearing her follow his breakneck pace, not asking any questions but following him to see where his mind was running to, not shocked in the least that he was going to his room, narrowly avoiding the hole in the floor. "Woah! Forgot that was there."

"What do you need?" she asked as soon as he was talking again.

"Um, to change. And for you to find me some shoes or strawberries."

"Why strawberries?"

"There's something about Pepper and strawberries."

"She's deathly allergic to them."

"Right. Shoes?"

"Right here." She held them up, having grabbed them moments before.

"What would I do without you?" he asked as he began to change out of his pajamas, not even bothered in the least that she was watching.

"Remain the most-eligible bachelor until you became impotent?"

That gave him pause, and he grinned before nodding. "And probably would still be a lush."

"Still? Do you not remember last night?"

"Yes, and that's why I need to bring something nice to Pepper. She's going to kill me if I show up at the offices without a peace offering."

"Chocolate-covered cherries."

"No, you're the one who likes those."

That surprised her. She didn't expect him to remember that little thing about her. "Well. I guess then you'll have to pick them up for me on your way back."

"I guess that I will." Wrapping her up in an embrace, kissing her before taking the shoes and shoving them onto his feet, Tony murmured, "Do I still have a chance with you?"

"I'm still here, Tony, even if I'm not happy with you, I still love you," she replied immediately.

He grinned like a teenager in love before sobering again. "Wait. So. What am I bringing to Pepper?"

"Chocolate with mint, or chocolate-covered cherries."

"You both like the same things?"

"Sometimes, yes. Now go, before they notice!" Pulling her keys from her pocket, she handed them to him. "Don't get pulled over. My car isn't locked down with the rest of your vehicles and I told Fury not to tag it. My phone's tagged and if I turn the GPS signal off, they'll alert people to find me, thus you, so I'm staying here. Hurry."

He grinned and embraced her once more before running out of his room and back down into the basement, moving to take a secret exit out of it before Coulson tried to find him.

Taking her time going down the stairs, Becka intercepted the agent with a dulled look upon her face. The man frowned, then indicated where the billionaire genius had run to. She shrugged. "He had to get changed, I didn't know where he was going, followed him up here, and then he darted back down there. I guess that he's worked something out."

"You should keep with him. I don't want to hear that he's becoming mentally imbalanced."

"Where've you been?" she replied, grinning and following Tony down into the workshop. "He's been unsound for years."


	11. Chapter 10

When A Bright Idea Dims  
By Sinead

_**Author's Note:**__ Sorry that this took so long! My Tony muse decided to go on vacation and leave me behind. Meanwhile, though, I had a chance to stop and look at where I was going to have this story head towards, and how I was going to adjust the way that it would end. As of right now, I'm not sure if I'll be doing a story for Iron Man 3, whenever that comes out. So that means that a lot will be happening by the end of this fic._

_For all of my awesome watchers and reviewers, thank you so very much for your patronage and your patience! While yes, I write because I enjoy it, it's also really fun to know that there are others that enjoy it. I hope that I don't disappoint with this and the following chapter!_

_And to the reviewer who asked about how the film reel in the movie was different than what I wrote? I had combined both the movie version as well as the novelization version, to create something that I feel would have the greatest impact upon Tony in this AU._

Chapter Ten

"How did he get out of your sight," Natasha demanded of Rebeckah over the phone as she stalked out towards the tarmac, seeing her "boss" disappear into the plane.

"Look, _you_ had enough trouble trying to keep him in your sight when he was _trying_ to be in your sight _and_ mine, right? Well, I thought he was running down to the lab again," replied the irritated voice. "And you owe me an apology for ruining a moment he and I were having."

"I owe you nothing."

"Really? Because without me, I really don't think that Tony would be cooperating with you and SHIELD."

"You sound _just_ like him when you talk like that."

"Good. Means that you're actually hearing me, so _listen up_, Natasha: You tell me that Tony was at Stark HQ fifteen minutes ago and talking with Pepper? Fine. Good. He's on the trail of something, and if you want him to get to the end of his trail, survive, and discover whatever Fury wants him to discover, then you're going to have to learn to work _with_ him and his eccentric moments of behavior. Deal with it. I've got work to do."

The line clicked, and the phone went dead in Natasha's hand. Glaring at it, she curled a lip in disgust and put it away. Maybe she had been wrong about bringing that woman into the fold. Give her a little power and it went right to her head. In fact, she'll call Coulson and Fury and tell them to get her off of the property until Stark had completed his work, completely in disbelief of Rebeckah's claim that without her presence, Tony wouldn't be as effective.

.o.

Putting the last of the crate contents back, Rebeckah found her Dr Pepper and sipped at it before walking back to wipe the table down.

Jarvis spoke up. "Fury is calling for you."

"Patch him through, please."

"Of course."

"Hello?" she greeted, grabbing a cloth and wiping the table down.

"I heard that you and Agent Rominoff had words."

"Yeah, she's bitchy because I lost sight of Tony for a moment and he escaped and is on the trail that old man Howard set up for him."

"That so? She said that you claimed Tony couldn't work without you by his side."

Barking a laugh, Becka sat upon Tony's favorite chair. "Not true. I have a recording of the phone conversation, and I said that without me, Tony probably wouldn't be cooperating as well with you and your organization."

"I'll take your word for it for now. Did he give any sign that he was going to return to his house?"

"Yes. He took my car."

"So that's why you didn't let me tag it." Director Fury sounded more amused than angry.

"Nope. I didn't let you tag it because it's my car and I like my anonymity and have more than one phone."

"Sneaky."

"Yep."

"So he's finding the trail of bread crumbs that his father left for him?"

"I believe so. Thank you."

"For . . . ?"

Smiling, she looked up at the ceiling. "For giving back to us our future together."

For a moment, there was silence before the man replied, "We all need him, and to let him die wasn't an option. You're welcome. Have to go."

"Take care."

The line cut, and she remained in her seat, watching the ceiling.

.o.

"Becks! Becks, I need your help!"

She must have fallen into a light doze, because she jolted awake and blinked sleepily at the man getting out of her car. "Tony?"

"C'mon, shortcake!" He had either backed down the curved drive, or he had turned the car around, because . . .

"Is that the model?"

"Yep! Need you to help me get it onto the table!"

Darting around the obstacles in her path, she helped him lift and carry each of the four pieces, settling them upon the table, then going for supports so that the edges wouldn't bow and warp since they hung over the edge of the table. Once the diorama was complete, they each took their time staring at it, walking around it and comparing it in their minds to the current sculpt of the land. "Wow."

"Dad knew what he was doing, and he knew that at some point in my life, the technology would be advanced enough to do something about his discovery." Blowing dust off of the sphere depicting the world, he straightened and began working again, his mind running in ever-broadening circles. "Jarvis, would you kindly vacu-form a digital wireframe? I need a manipulatable projection."

As the blue lines of the hologram/scanner ran over the old diorama, Tony looked down at the buildings again and continued upon his line of thinking, double-checking what his old man had been getting at. His math was adding up, but he had to play around with this to find out what, exactly, Howard Stark had discovered.

"1974 Stark Expo model scan complete, sir."

Lifting it and turning to a blank spot in the room, Tony asked, "Uh, how many buildings are there?"

"Am I to include the Belgian waffle stands?"

He was going to have words with his AI later about being polite in certain situations. "It was rhetorical; just show me." He rotated the virtual model so that it was standing straight upwards in the air. "Tell me, what does that look like to you?" He was talking to both AI and his lover, but his eyes were on the hologram before him, focused upon the world. Ironic, and yet quite symbolic. He frowned, seeing Becka moving closer from the corner of his eye. "Not . . . unlike anatomy. In which case, the nucleus would be _here_."

Whether it was math or science, Rebeckah just didn't get it. They were both unfathomable in the way that they dealt with mostly numbers, and there was only a few moments where intuition combined with knowledge gave a scientist, physicist, engineer or mathematician the end result of their studies and quite possibly giving them the means to find the answer to their theories, or begin an entirely new string of theories altogether.

Needless to say, Becka didn't operate like this. Tony was in his own world right now, thinking and moving faster, looking more like his old self than he had in at least a month.

His mind was going through calculations and theories faster than he could hold onto all of them. He knew that his math was correct, but he didn't know where the theories would bring him. "Highlight the unisphere."

It turned yellow, and he enlarged it before something hit him. His voice went soft, introspective. "Lose the footpaths. Get rid of 'em." He swiped his hand from right to left and they were gone.

"What is it that you're trying to achieve, sir?" Jarvis inquired, his voice sounding calm, but there was a hint of confused concern within its depths.

Tony answered, since he had arrived at the destination of his thought processes just at that point. "I'm discovering . . . correction, _re_discovering a new element." Rubbing his face with one hand and straightening his signature goatee absently, he continued to study the hologram. Becka walked closer, not wanting to intrude on his moment, but found that once she was in arm's reach of Stark, he stretched to grab her wrist, tugging her closer. "You help me think better when you're right here."

Smiling, she kissed his temple and murmured, "So think better." Moving to stand with her hands upon his shoulders, staring at the holographic artistry that Jarvis was responsible for, she couldn't help but begin to feel a giddy sense of awe.

Tony's mouth was already moving. "Lose the landscaping, shrubbery, trees . . . parking lots, exits, entrances . . ." With each thing that he had commanded to be gone, he flicked his fingers at the bent light, sending it skittering out of sight and away from them. Licking his lips, he stared at the unisphere, frowning lightly before murmuring, "Structure the protons and neutrons using the pavilions as a framework."

Clasping his hands and then magnifying the sphere, Tony pinched at the bridge of his nose to ward off a headache, resting his hand over his mouth while he stared at the pieces falling together, literally right before his eyes. And once the last light fell into place upon the skin of the sphere, he flung his arms wide, causing the hologram to fill the room in a sphere around them. He felt Rebeckah tightening her grip upon his shoulders as they stared at the wondrous creation that spun slowly with the couple in its exact center.

"Wow," the woman breathed, eyes reflecting the pinpoints of light.

Anthony Edward Stark, son of Howard and Maria Stark, stared at the legacy that his father had left for him to unravel and create. He couldn't believe what his father had discovered, but had left a secret for thirty years and then some for Tony to rediscover in an age where the technology was at a point to do something about it.

Howard had been a very patient man when it came to some forms of technology, and yet . . . "Dead for almost twenty years, and he's still taking me to school. I don't think I ever knew this side of my old man," Tony murmured to himself.

"Maybe because he didn't want you trying to force yourself to create something prematurely."

"Mm." Resting his hands upon Becka's, he took in the sight of an atom that may or may not actually save him. "Just . . . while Jarvis analyzes this . . . can I ask you something?"

"Yes."

"If . . . if this doesn't work . . . can we just escape, go somewhere, and be alone?"

"You mean that in the way that I think you mean that?"

"Look, I'll be honest. The way that the seat of your jeans are filled and how you've been moving has gotten me distracted, and it's partially because of the fact that I may or may not live past tomorrow, and if I don't, I'd like to have at least a solid five hours with you. In that way." Chocolate eyes with fiery molten depths turned up to lock upon the storming eyes of his fiancé, and Tony didn't bother hiding anything from her within his gaze. He was strung tighter than a piano string with tension about the fact that his future was literally hanging by a thread.

But would that thread be made of brittle cotton or would it be titanium?

She was silent for a moment, weighing his words, his options, and then smiled gently, resting her cheek against his forehead, sliding her head down until their cheekbones were resting against one another and her arms were crossed over his chest, as if to hold him together. "Tony, if this doesn't work, and there are no more options, I don't think we'd be able to get farther than the couch over there."

He didn't smile as he brought his hands up, one to rest over where her arms crossed over the arc reactor in his chest, and the other to curl around her other cheek, guiding her closer for a tender kiss. The emotions that he felt both from himself and from her side as she kissed him were almost overwhelming, and he did everything he could not to cry and break into a thousand pieces because of the stress running rampant through him.

Pulling away as tenderly as he could, Tony pinched at his nose before gesturing for the hologram to shrink into something he could look at in his hands, turning it over between his thumb and forefinger thoughtfully.

"The proposed element should serve as a viable replacement for palladium."

Breathing in deeply, feeling tension drop from his shoulders, Tony kept his gaze upon the blue light. "Thanks, Dad."

"Unfortunately, it is almost impossible to synthesize."

Grinning against the side of her man's neck, kissing the corner of his jaw, Becka all but knew the response Jarvis was going to get. "Uh-huh?"

Leaving the hologram hanging in mid-air and spinning to pick his fiancé up and continue spinning her around, kissing her soundly, Tony laughed carelessly for the first time in what felt to be too long. "Damn, so I don't get laid tonight! But!" Lowering his voice and pressing his forehead to the woman's, he murmured intensely, "I get to live to see our children!" Kissing her again, he whispered, "I love you. Thank you for being so patient with me and inspiring me."

Smiling, shaking her head, Becka replied, "You would have done this without me by your side just as well, if not better than, if I was with you."

"You think so?"

"You're the genius; you tell me."

Unable to keep the broad, face-splitting grin from his face, Tony set her down. "Time to get to work again." Kissing her forehead, he murmured, "Go find somewhere to nap, okay? I know that I woke you up earlier."

"We'll see," she replied, resting her nose against his chest and breathing deeply, capturing his scent of expensive cologne and working-under-the-car man that mixed into the most perfect description of just who this man was.

Tony slowly disentangled himself with another kiss, this time much more chaste and controlled than the last few. Knowing that he had to start construction immediately, Tony began moving towards where he stored his tools.

There was a sledgehammer with his name on it and he knew that it was going to feel good to decimate a wall of concrete.

He didn't see Rebeckah watching him walk away, a look upon her face indicative of calculations of a different sort going on within her head. She looked down at her engagement ring, then felt for the necklace that held his MIT ring, the now-familiar surfaces reassuring her. She knew that he held onto the ring she had worn for many long years as a physical indication of her decision to remain chaste until marriage.

She bit the inside of her lip as she continued to debate with herself, watching the man she would marry as he prepared to further demolish the house in the interest of extending his life. It wasn't as if he couldn't afford to rebuild it entirely from scratch, after all.

She wanted him, and she could have him. All she had to do was ask.

But even if she did ask, would he honor her prior decision to not make love with him until they were married, or would he go for the opportunity to sate what had to be an almost intolerable level of lust-laced tension that had built itself up over the past two days?


	12. Chapter 11

When A Bright Idea Dims  
By Sinead

_**Author's Note:**__ I just have to edit Chapter 12, and then that will be uploaded shortly after this one. Thank you for your patience, and I know that I said to a couple people that this would be uploaded last week or thereabouts. School is awesome, but it's also making me absurdly busy with the planning of filming a short. Figures that I'm the writer/director._

Chapter Eleven

As it turned out, Becka didn't get a nap until Tony had stopped physically working for an hour and a half. She had helped him, assisting carefully as they found the walls that had to be broken through, ceilings that had to be pierced, and large wooden crates that had to be located in the sub-basements where Tony hoarded both old and strange technology.

When they had stopped moving for a break to consult blueprints and an inventory list, Rebeckah walked to a couch and collapsed upon it. She half-awoke when Tony joined her, not shifting her from the warm spot against the couch back, but instead insulating her from the other side, pulling a throw down over them both while they crashed for an hour of much-needed sleep. If they had waited any longer to rest, they would have lost productivity.

As Jarvis awoke them, the pair found themselves oddly refreshed, with renewed energy as they set about continuing their destructive and constructive work. While they were setting up the tubing for the particle accelerator, Tony brought up a subject that they had never returned to in light of recent events. "Beck, remember how you claimed that I never gave you the same lingering glances as I had for the dancers who had been on stage for the Stark Expo opening?"

Grunting her affirmation as she shouldered a particularly heavy tool cabinet an inch further to give the tubing a solid foundation, she glanced at Tony expectantly.

He didn't disappoint. "You just don't catch me staring at you. I can't count the times that I find myself speechless at what you're either wearing or what you're considering wearing. And it doesn't have to be revealing clothing, either. You look amazing no matter what you wear, because _you're_ wearing it and it just accentuates _you_."

"So then . . . what had you been thinking when you were on that stage with the dancers?" she snarled as she got it two more inches, hearing Tony pat it twice in affirmation that it was perfectly placed. Sagging to the ground and panting, she looked up at him as he put the heavy tubing down upon the wheel-less tool cart.

"Well, I had been wishing that you would wear stilettos as high as those, which you were, and what I could see of your legs made me wish your skirt was just two inches shorter, and that if I were ever to be as egotistical as I'm cranked up to be—"

"And sometimes still _are_," she interrupted.

". . . agreed. But as I was saying, I was thinking that if you were ever to wear something like that, I'd die a happy man just staring at you."

Blinking around the corner and up at Stark, Becka snorted. "I don't believe you. You know that I'm nowhere _near_ that bust size, I will never have those legs, and their waists are unnatural, and—"

She was silenced by a kiss and a gentle hand stroking her cheek. "And you're all the more amazing for the way that you're put together _naturally_ and look better in what you're wearing now than what _they_ had been wearing. I don't dream of women dressed like that. I dream of _you_, just the way you are."

"Sap."

"The urge strikes me every so often, but then again, having seen you in a bikini, I feel that I'm justified in my assessment," Tony admitted, kissing her again before helping her to her feet and looking back at the entirety of the room. "Right. So now we just go through and make sure that everything's level, or this will just turn into a big mess."

"I'll shove things into place if you do the heavy lifting."

"Deal. Sounds like a marriage to me."

"Really?"

"Yep. Working as a team."

Grinning, Becka shoved him to one side before grabbing a ruler and looking at the box of scrap metal, waiting for his first request to pick something up of a certain height, thickness, and breadth. She moved wordlessly, processing what he had said to her. There was a part of her that had wanted him to remember the night they had shared together in the cave, and that he _had_ seen her without even a bikini on, but there was also the other half of herself that was shyly smiling, pleasantly amused that he didn't have to go to that extent to describe how he felt about her body. She finally settled upon the latter emotion, but knew that it may change in a half hour. Between the lack of sleep, tension between herself and Tony, and the overall situation, her emotions were unstable.

Frustrating as that may be, she was glad that there was nothing hidden between herself and Tony anymore, and kept that in the forefront of her mind, reminding her own emotions that no matter what he may or may not mention because of his current state of mind, they would have a future together.

.o.

Countless books, pieces of scraps, and twelve joints between the piping leveled off a half hour later, Coulson predictably showed up, opening the door and walking down into the half-ruined lab, not even seeming to care that it looked like something large and metal had died in here and was in the midst of being dissected and reconstructed into something new.

"I heard you broke the perimeter."

Becka's head popped up over the edge of the desk, where she was sitting on the floor with several blueprints, making sure that everything was in place and together. Seeing Coulson, she went back to mentally checking off everything that they'd done, and then began prioritizing the few actions remaining.

Tony moved from one joint to the next with a level. "Ah, yeah. That was like, three years ago. Where _you_ been?"

Smirking at his seemingly carefree attitude, but knowing that he was only snarking like this because he was ticking off the minutes he had left alive on the palladium arc reactor and needed to keep moving, Becka stood and began rolling the blueprints up. Coulson walked closer, not missing a beat. "I was doin' some stuff."

"Yeah, well, me too, and it worked." He glanced at Becka, who smiled warmly at him. Winking at her, he continued talking to the agent. "Hey. I'm playing for the home team, Coulson, you and all your fabulous furry freak brothers. Now are you going to let me work or break my balls?" He watched the man start taking an interest in something in one of the scrap metal boxes, then turned his back to try to find something to level off the final joining piece.

"What's _this_ doing here," Coulson demanded, turning and holding what appeared to be a prototype of some sort of large round shield within his hands.

"What's _that_?" Becka asked, walking closer to try to take another look.

"That's it." Tony blinked, then moved back to where he had been trying to measure out what he had needed for this one final adjustment. He only got a blank, confused stare from the SHIELD agent and gave up being patient. "Bring this to me."

"You know what this is?"

"It's exactly what I need to make this work." Taking the shield, Tony examined it, turned it one quarter clockwise, then demanded, "Lift the coil." Directing the slightly-older man on what to do, he shoved the shield under the joint, instructed for the coil to be dropped, and swept the level up to place it down upon the now-level parts. "Perfectly level." Swiping it off and addressing the intruder to his home, his peace, and his workshop with just the right level of distain, Tony demanded, "I'm busy, whaddya want?"

Lightly winded, but at the same time, shocked that Stark was so far along, Coulson could only speak abruptly, as he was apt to do. "Nothing. Goodbye. I've been reassigned. Director Fury wants me in New Mexico."

"Ah. Fantastic. Secret stuff."

"Something like that."

"Good luck."

"Bye. Thanks."

"We need you."

"Yeah. More than you know."

"Not that much."

Inwardly amused at the fact that someone could match him in snark and not even seeming to be at all capable of such sarcasm and cynicism, Tony watched the man leave then began the final preparations, digging goggles out and retrieving the crystal and triangle of viable metal that Jarvis had just finished paring into perfect triangles. Setting everything up with precise movements and attention to every detail, Tony ducked back under the coil and found the final tools he needed as just-in-case measures.

Becka walked over to him, running her hand along his back, from shoulder to pause at his waist. "Everything upstairs is set, locked down, and ready to go."

Smiling, Tony murmured a soft thank you before handing her goggles to protect her eyes and instructing her to stand behind him at all times. "Jarvis, hit the lights."

The only light allowed in streamed through the clerestory windows and from the chine itself, where a blue laser was continuing along its way through the accelerator, gathering speed as it went. Before he could start the process, however, Tony felt the hand of his fiancé wrap around his wrist, turning him towards the woman he was going to share the rest of his life with.

"Tony . . . I'm glad that you're back."

"So'm I. Good luck kiss?"

"Just for asking for it, no."

"Aw, c'mon, sourpatch . . ."

Laughing at the playful puppy look, she pulled his head down for a searing kiss. Pulling back slowly, she whispered, "Good luck."

"Still wanna get married quickly in that Japanese garden?"

"No, I want to disappoint the entire world," came the sarcastic reply.

"Oh, well, in that case, we can always elope."

"Just not to Vegas. I hate Vegas."

"I'm aware."

"But yes. At the garden."

"Fantastic. I can't wait."

"Neither can I, but you know that means that you have to get back on schedule, yeah?"

"Sir, we're approaching critical power," Jarvis interrupted.

The duo grinned at each other, putting goggles on. Tony walked to where the crystal would divert the laser towards the target, Becka standing behind him but slightly to one side so that she could see the proceedings.

"And Tony?"

"Yeah?" he asked, not turning around as he picked up the massive wrench and made sure that it would fit the handle that would turn the crystal.

"Yinsen would be proud of you."

He paused, but only for a second before his head bowed a little and a sigh gusted into the lab. "Thank you." Looking at the setup with a renewed determination, the man began the process of creating a new element.

.o.

_**Author's Note Part Two:**__ Just a question, but one that I'd like to see some input on? Where are you expecting this story to end? How? And is there more of something that you'd like to see? _

_While I'm primarily writing this because I love to write, I also want to be able to write things that you, my readers, want to read. I don't want to drag a story on long past the time where it should have been finished and settled._


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